Terebellum
by Enchantable
Summary: On the eve of her betrothal to Prince Ichigo, the palace is attacked and Princess Orihime is forced to flee with her bodyguard, Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer. Now the two must embark on a journey to put Orihime on the throne and save the Kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so after talking to a reader I decided that this story could be really fun as a longer one. **

**Here you go!**

**Its an AU epic, everyone's different and all that. **

**Enjoy!  


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The palace was beautiful at sunset.

High vaulted ceilings anchored large windows designed to let in as much light as possible. As he walked down the marble floor his boots echoed all along the corridor. But that was the design of the palace. No sneaking about, especially not when inside the wing of the palace that house the Royal Family. He wore the uniform of the Guard, done in the black and whites that were the colors of the Kingdom of Las Noches. Strapped to his waist his sword was a comforting weight despite the fact that it had been some time since his blade had been wet with blood.

"Captain Schiffer."

Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer of the Royal Guard turned his head. The maid picked up her skirts and hurried forward, the sealed message clasped in her hands. Her cheeks burned. Ulquiorra Schiffer was the subject of much palace gossip, thanks to the fact that in addition to being a war hero he was exceedingly attractive. With his dark shaggy hair and bright emerald eyes, more than one person had tried to seduce the Captain of the Guard. Unfortunately every time that someone got close he pushed them away. In fact, the only person that anyone had seen him show anything but apathy towards aside from the men under his command was the Princess. But then again, he was in charge of making sure that she was safe so perhaps it was just orders.

"Here," the maid extended her and with the sealed message, "the King asks that you give this to his daughter."

Ulquiorra accepted the message with a curt nod before turning and continuing down the hallway, the message clasped tightly in his hand. He turned and walked down the hallway once more, along his original route to towards the Princess's chambers. Though there were windows in all the palace, the Princess's wing of the Palace was practically made of glass. Even on the cloudiest or stormiest of days her rooms were bathed in light. Ironically the place was probably one of the safest in the palace. It was high up, the glass was reinforced and _he_ was the one who made sure that the woman who inhabited it was safe.

Or he had anyway.

Her engagement to the Prince of a neighboring Kingdom of Karakura had just been announced and soon she would be leaving the palace to go and be his bride. Though she was his charge, his responsibility, as Captain of the Guard he was bound to the palace and the Royalty. He would not be going with her when she left the halls of this place. He did not know why that made strange emotions coil in his stomach, just that he found the idea of her leaving only to return on the odd visit to be a wildly unpleasant idea. Not that he would dare to voice such a thing. It was not his place to voice such a thing. Besides, he would not know what to say. What plausible reason could she have to want to remain in the palace of her girlhood?

He opened the doors to her room with the ease and familiarity that came from their long relationship together. There she was, sitting curled up at the window seat, a book open in her lap. Princess Orihime Inoue. The last vestiges of sunlight poured through the windows, changing the color of the pale blue silk of her dress. The tight bodice was the only reason she was sitting upright, pale lace covering her arms and the tops of her breasts before the silk began. Her sunset colored hair was pulled back and held up by a few clips that sparkled in the bright light. At the sound of him entering her grey eyes went over to him. She brightened immediately, getting to her feet with grace that had been all but beaten into her.

"Captain Schiffer!" she smiled brightly, "I didn't know how long your inspections were going to take," she walked gracefully over to him, "I'm glad I got to see you before the ball."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for it?" he asked. Her gown was beautiful and exquisite to be sure but it was not for the ball tonight. After so many years at Court he knew the difference between the two.

"I could ask the same of you," she said with a smile, "even I know that's not your dress uniform."

"I believe it takes me considerably less time to get dressed than you," he said.

"I suppose that's true," she said, "after all, you don't have to get _laced_ into anything," she shuddered, looking over at the room where she would get ready, the room that her dress was laid out for the evening in, its intricate embroideries being looked over to make sure everything was perfect, "this party's going to be terrible."

"No worse than any other party," he said.

"You _hate_ parties, Ulquiorra," she said.

"Exactly, I hate _all_ parties," he said, "they are indistinguishable from one another. This will be no more, no less unpleasant than any of the other ones."

Orihime smiled at his blatant disdain for parties. Truthfully she didn't like being paraded around in front of people anymore than he liked seeing her paraded around in front of them, but she had long since become adept at hiding it. In fact, the only person she knew could see through the mask she put up was her emerald eyed bodyguard. Or so she hoped. She imagined it could create problems for her family if the rest of the Court knew that she hated the parties but if Ulquiorra knew, well, if it was just him she didn't think it was really such a bad thing.

"Well this party's going to be different," she said brushing off her skirt nervously, "the Prince is going to be there."

Oh.

Well that changed things.

Prince Ichigo Kurosaki, sole heir to the Kingdom of Karakura and Princess Orihime Inoue's fiance. The two hadn't met since they were very young but by all accounts Ichigo Kursoaki had blossomed into everything a dashing future monarch should be. The two would not see each other until that night but Ulquiorra could see the nervousness written plainly all over her features. She was nervous about meeting the Prince, not that he could see much reason for the emotion. After all, there was absolutely no reason for him not to like her. And even if he did not, it was not like the two of them would be able to back out of the marriage. This was an alliance, a marriage done for the sake of peace for both their kingdoms. Their child's existence would cement one of the most powerful alliances in the world. With the alliance Karakura already had with the Kingdom of Soul Society two very large threats to Las Noches would be neutralized.

"There is no reason for your concern," he said, "the King asked me to give you this," he extended the paper towards her.

Orihime took it and slipped her thumb under the seal, breaking it and opening the piece of paper. Her eyes softened as she read the words on the paper. It was a note from the Prince. He must have passed it along through the King. Orihime smiled brightly as she read the words written there. His words were funny as he spoke about the annoyance of the ball but he seemed like he was excited to meet her again. Orihime felt excited as well, the nervousness in her stomach slowly ebbing as she imagined what it would be like to meet the dashing Prince. She looked over at Ulquiorra who seemed to be trying to figure out the contents of the letter from her reaction.

"Its from _him_," she said. His eyes narrowed, the most outright show of emotion she would get from him.

Orihime felt the excitement and nervousness she felt join with worry inside her. Ulquiorra did _not_ like the Prince. In the last war between Karakura and Las Noches, the two had clashed repeatedly on the battlefield. They could have fought forever, if their Kings would have allowed it. Now they would meet again only it would not be at the point of swords, it would be at a ball where, most ironically of all, Ulquiorra Shciffer would have to make sure that his enemy was safe. There were many reasons that Orihime had to go through with the marriage but she hated to upset Ulquiorra, the last thing she wanted to do was betray her lifelong guardian, especially now that they were actually becoming friends. Orihime lowered the letter and looked over at him.

"I will return shortly," he said, his voice cool and curt.

"Ulquiorra--" she began. He fixed her with his emerald eyes, "never mind," she fingered the edge of her skirt, "I'll see you in a bit."

"Your Highness," he bowed and turned, walking out of her rooms.

Orihime watched him go, her fingers still gripping the letter. She knew that marrying the Prince of Karakura would be difficult but she didn't expect it to be so difficult so soon.

"Your Highness, its time to get ready," one of the maids said gently.

She nodded and turned, trying to push all thoughts of her emerald eyed guardian from her head.

* * *

"Alright Your Highness, you are ready."

Orihime nodded, standing seamlessly though her upper body was confined in an even tighter corset. Her dress for the festivities that night was nothing short of a work of art. Pale green silk covered her bodice, coming to just past her hips. Soft, shimmering pink silk started underneath the green before taking over where it ended. The entire dress poofed outwards thanks to the multitude of petticoats she wore underneath. Though the dress was held up by the corset, pale pink lace of the same color edged the top of the dress and made up two narrow straps that Orihime could not see much of a point to considering how much skin was shone. Resting in the elaborate style was the diamond crown that signaled her rank. Her eyes practically glowed, her lips were colored, she looked every inch the infamous Flower Princess that she was.

"Your Highness, Captain Schiffer is here."

"Thank you," Orihime said picking up her skirts and stepping into the main room.

There he was, as dependable as ever. The dress uniforms of the guards were white, from the boots to the high collar of the jacket he wore. Not that Ulquiorra would show distaste but Orihime knew he thought of them as ridiculous. She didn't though, in fact she would like to see them on them always if only for the way it seemed to make his green eyes stand out even more. His black hair just barely brushed the collar of the garment, a bit longer than most of the guards wore there's but that was just because he never had time for things so trivial as getting a haircut. His sword was at his waist, the one thing he would not think of leaving behind. Especially not at a party such as this.

At the sound of her approach his eyes turned to her. Orihime tried not to bite her lip and searched for clues as to what he thought of her appearance. As always his face remained cool and enigmatic which, she figured, could not be a _bad_ thing. If she looked stupid he would at least tell her that. Finally his head gave the barest inclination of approval and her heart soared.

"It suits you," he said finally offering his arm, "come. His Majesty will be upset if you are late."

"Alright," she said placing her arm on his as they walked out of the room towards the ballroom.

They walked down the hallway enveloped in the comforting silence that came from years of companionship, though ironically the two were not that different age wise. But experience wise, Orihime was a Princess who lived in a glass tower. Ulquiorra was a war hero who had been given a life of luxury from a war that had ended in peace--despite the fact that most of the people wished to defeat them soundly. Two lives that never should have intertwined but somehow did, something that Orihime would always be grateful for. Just because she was leaving and Ulquiorra would stay, they would find a way to stay close right? She glanced over at him, her brow furrowing at the idea that hadn't occurred to her before. She knew her people, her land it would always be a part of her, she had just assumed that the same would be true for Ulquiorra.

"H-hey Ulquiorra?" she looked over at him. His emerald eyes slid over to her, "what are you going to do when I'm in Karakura?"

"The King has not spoken of my next task," he said.

Orihime felt her heart ache. Task? Was that all she was to him? They had spent so much time in each other's company, even if at first he had been less than thrilled about his pampered life and new mission. She knew he thought he was a warrior, what business did he have in guarding a Princess? She had worked so hard to make sure that he knew the ins and outs of Court, how to eat at a dinner table without making a complete fool of himself--everything. She had even teased a smile from him once or twice. Though he wouldn't say they were friends, she knew she considered him one of hers. She thought he had too, despite not saying it, but now apparently she was mistaken. Apparently he thought of her as a task, not a friend.

"Well I'm sure he'll think of something," she said with a smile that felt fake even to her.

Ulquiorra frowned as he looked at her saddened features. A moment ago she had looked unsure, then she looked sad. He did not understand what had happened. When they left the room she looked like she was practically glowing with excitement. Now she looked as though all she wanted to do was cry. Inwardly he felt a surge of frustration. This was why she needed to go. His presence was starting to affect her, if he was the one that hurt her he did not think he could ever forgive himself. He was a threat and if there was one thing in the world Ulquiorra Schiffer knew how to do it was to protect Orihime Inoue, from _anything_, even from himself.

By the time they arrived at the doors that would lead to the ballroom he was more than ready to let her go off. He withdrew his arm from her, stepping back. She looked at him, opening her mouth to say something before she closed it quickly and shook her head, courage failing her. Ulquiorra bowed and turned, walking down the hallway. He had to make sure that everything was in place before she came downstairs.

"You'll do fine, Princess," he said softly, just loud enough so that she could hear him.

Orihime watched him go before turning back to the doors, her confidence renewed. She would do fine.

Ulquiorra hurried down the hallway, going as fast as he could without breaking into an all out run. He knew he had nothing to worry about, the guards were all in place. But there was so much nobility down there, enough Royalty that if they spilled blood he imagined it would run blue. He had to make sure that did not happen. Las Noches and Karakura had problems enough as it was. Ulquiorra slipped through a side entrance and into the main ballroom. Inwardly he winced. If there was one thing that the King knew how to do it was put on a show for people, especially if those people were potential enemies.

The entire place smelled like Lilies. Arrangements of the flower were everywhere inside the room and outside as well. Everything was in the white and black of Las Noches, though the black had been kept to a minimum. As usual most of the courtiers wore white which was an advantage for him since his guards had to wear that color as well. He picked some of them out easily but only because he knew them, for someone else a quick glance would not identify them if their weapons were concealed. The new faces belong to those from Karakura Town. They were far more colorful than most of Las Noches. He understood the reason for the soft colors in Orihime's gown instantly, she would have to toe an extremely fine line.

His eyes found Prince Ichigo Kurosaki's form far too easily. He looked every inch the dashing prince/hero. His hair was the same violent shade of orange but his amber eyes showed an open, genuine warmth that made Ulquiorra slowly plot the ways he could murder the bastard. Whatever his companion said he obviously found amusing because he started to laugh, the sound coming so easily to him. There were no barriers, no walls--it was not as if someone would think of Prince Ichigo as holding the world at an arms length. Though bile rose in the back of his throat, Ulquiorra grudgingly had to admit that Orihime would do well with him. After all, if one sun was bright, two would be even brighter. Their kingdoms would flourish.

He still wanted to kill the bastard, _slowly_.

Suddenly all eyes went to the stairs where Orihime had just entered. Ichigo's amber eyes widened in surprise, his lips parting as Ulquiorra knew he took in the sight of his future bride. Ulquiorra glanced behind him to see Orihime standing there looking absolutely perfect. His eyes swept over her form as she glided down the stairs, a smile on her lips. She did not look doll like, not like most of the woman who got dressed up. She looked alive and beautiful. Orihime's eyes found Ichigo's. Both their cheeks turned pink as the entirety of both Courts seemed to hold their breath as the two met for the first time in a long time. Ichigo moved through the crowd to greet her when she came down the stairs, coming to stand in front of him.

"Welcome to Las Noches, Your Highness," she said curtseying, "I hope you will enjoy your stay."

"I'm sure I will, Princess Inoue," he said taking her extended hand and brushing a kiss to it.

Both Courts sighed in relief.

The music started up again but all that Ulquiorra could think was that the trouble hadn't begun yet. His eyes scanned the room before he saw _her_. She looked like she blended perfectly, far too perfectly for it to be coincidental. She wore her dark hair piled on top of her head and secured with silver ornaments. Her dress was lilac and silver, bringing out her almost luminescent purple eyes. She was laughing with a few men who seemed quite enamored of her, despite the fact that she was much shorter than any of them. Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed. The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to be standing up. He turned and grabbed the arm of the nearest guard he could spot.

"Whose that?" he demanded nodding towards her.

"Just another member of the Karakura Court, sir," the guard said.

"Someone is to keep an eye on her at all times," he said looking at the guard, "I don't want her out of sight."

"Alright sir," he said turning and walking over to her, plastering the same love-struck grin on his face as all her other suitors wore.

The woman's violet eyes found Ulquiorra's emerald ones over his shoulder. Just the slightest narrowing of them, the all too devious curve of her lips and Ulquiorra _knew_ she was onto him. He turned his head to see the Princess and Prince talking over something, their stiff postures giving way as they became comfortable with each other. When he turned around he was suddenly toe to toe with the petite, violet eyed woman, much to the disheartenment of her suitors. She raised an eyebrow as the song the band was playing wound down.

"If you are going to keep an eye on me, the least you can do is dance."

"Of course," he said cooly extending an arm. She accepted it with grace and they walked to the dance floor, beginning to move as a new song was struck up, "and your name?"

"Is that important to you, Captain Schiffer?" she asked with the same devious smile, "you are obviously suspicious of me."

"I am just wondering why Soul Society is brazen enough to send just one woman to spy on us," he said, acting on his gut instinct.

"You are not as astute as the rumors suggest," she said, the smile not not slipping.

"Is it wise to risk your alliance with Karakura?" he questioned.

"While touching, that is not your concern," she said.

Ulquiorra tried to run through the list of people he knew from Soul Society who would be foolish and brazen enough to accept the mission of coming to a place like this. Obviously this woman was not Nobility, not by birth very good at blending into such parties it was clear that she was far more comfortable with men who had gotten their hands dirty once or twice. From the thinly masked glares the women were giving her it was clear the family she was in was high ranking enough that alienating her would not be wise at all. Her tongue was clearly sharp, though he knew she had judged him just as well before she had talked with the informality that she did. The music ended and the two moved apart, their eyes not leaving each other. Hers kept moving from his face to his chest, judging if he was going to go for his sword. This woman was a fighter, in more ways than one.

"Ah, Ambassador Kuchiki, I see you've met Captain Schiffer," a woman in a dark sapphire dress and short hair said with a smile.

Ambassador?

"Yes," she said, her smile widening, "Captain Schiffer and I were just talking."

"Well I apologize, but I must steal you away for a moment," the woman continued.

She nodded and the two walked off into the crowd. Ulquiorra grimaced and looked through the crowd for the mop of violently colored hair. This time instead of orange he was looking for blue. He found him, surrounded by a gaggle of girls as always. He would never understand why he dressed in muted colors considering the fact that his hair was like staring into the sun for too long. But right now he needed his help enough to try and push the unpleasant thoughts from his head.

"Your Grace? May I speak to you?" he asked cooly.

"Ah, ladies, I'm sorry but I gotta go," he said. They all pouted, "I know, I know, but your favorite Duke will be back in a minuet and then two of you can play Duchess tonight."

The unpleasant thoughts were back. Duke Grimmjow of the House of Jeagerjaques was a hard partying playboy if there ever was one. Unfortunately he also happened to be a good solider and someone that Ulquiorra was forced to give grudging respect too--and with enough alcohol, he could even find him tolerable. The injuries he had sustained in the war, at the hands of Prince Ichigo, had ended his military career and forced him into a wonderfully plush retirement. He was Ulquiorra's second eyes at Court, though the two would never admit it to anyone. Most of the Court still though they hated each other after their infamous brawls while in the service.

"Whose the Ambassador?" Ulquiorra asked, "purple eyes, dark hair--"

"Oh _her_," Grimmjow grinned, "saw you two dancing. That, my unfortunate friend, is the Lady Rukia Kuchiki. Her brother is Prince Byakuya Kuchiki, one of the many in line for the throne of Soul Society."

"Kuchiki doesn't have a sister," he said.

"Apparently he does now," he said, "adopted by the looks of it."

"Why would the Prince risk his sister to come here?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Who knows. But whatever it is, I'm guessing its not good."

Though he was loath to admit it, Ulquiorra had to agree. With a curt nod he turned and walked off. Grimmjow watched him go before he turned and walked back to his potential 'Duchesses'. Ulquiorra made his way through the crowd. He had put men to watch the Ambassador but he was not going to let Orihime Inoue out of his sight for the rest of the night. She was not hard to find, dancing with the Prince, completely unaware of the potential threat. Though he continued to receive reports throughout the night, Ulquiorra made sure that the Princess to to remain blissfully unaware, at least for a little while longer.

* * *

"Oh he was _wonderful_," Orihime sighed, her eyes star struck, "I was so nervous but it was all for nothing."

If Ulquiorra hadn't wanted to murder the Prince before, he sure as hell wanted to do so now. The two of them were walking back to her rooms. Thankfully propriety demanded that Prince Kurosaki leave her side at the ballroom entrance. He had done so with a kiss to her hand before she slipped out of the room. Ulquiorra had been waiting for her on the other side of the doors intent on making sure nothing happened to her from there to her bedroom. There were enough guards to protect her there. Orihime had taken his arm without a thought and immediately started talking about the Prince with the enthusiasm of a girl in love. Ulquiorra let her talk, figuring if she was distracted enough the stars in her eyes would keep her from seeing that something was very wrong. Apparently it was working. As long as he let her speak and tuned it out, he could keep his eyes out for any activity.

"What did you think?" Orihime asked looking at him. Ulquiorra looked at her blankly, "have you been listening to a word I said?" she asked, a pout coming to her lips.

She had been drinking. Orihime only pouted when she drank. She wasn't drunk but she was certainly tipsy. Ulquiorra felt frustration surge through him as another factor slipped out of his control. He heard something--or someone--move behind them. Instantly his hand was on her waist and the other on his sword.

"Ulqui--"

"Step in front of me," he ordered, his voice low.

Orihime obeyed him as he turned around, his eyes looking out for the target. Nothing but an empty corridor greeted his sharp emerald gaze.

"W-what's going on?" Orihime asked, her fingers tightening in the folds of her skirt, "Ulquiorra--"

"Stay close," he ordered her. Orihime nodded and stepped close enough so he could feel the silk of her skirt brush the back of his legs, "we need to get you to your rooms," he said, "quickly."

Orihime nodded, her fingers pulling the heavy material up into her hands. Ulquiorra took a step back and looked at her. He gave a curt nod. With speed that would have done his soldiers shame she pulled up her skirts and took off running. Instantly two men appeared in the hallway. Ulquiorra moved forward, his sword flashing as he blocked one strike before quickly impaling the two men. Turning he ran after the Princess, intent on keeping her in his sight. Even in her heavy gown Orihime managed to move quickly through the darkened palace. Suddenly the entire structure seemed to shake violently. Orihime's feet stopped as she turned, horror in her eyes. Ulquiorra kept running.

"The palace--" she inhaled, "we're under attack--" she looked at him, "father--"

"Come on!" he grabbed her arm.

"But the people--"

"The people will be fine! Your priority is to stay alive!"

Orihime looked at him, horror in her eyes before she stuffed it down and nodded, knowing his words were correct. Her father would have said the same thing, even if she did not want to admit it. The two ran down the hallway as Ulquiorra opened one of the many secret tunnels. Orihime dove in as he jumped right after her. They raced down a long set of stairs, down to the ground floor of the palace where two horses were kept for occasions such as this. One was obviously for the King and the other for his daughter. But Ulquiorra knew the King would not be leaving this way, not tonight. He helped Orihime onto her horse and climbed onto the Kings. He felt warmth on the side of his face and turned his head towards it.

The palace was burning.

"Ride!" he ordered her, his voice giving her the strength her limbs seemed to lack. Orihime gasped and buried her heels into the side of her horse. The animal bolted. To her right she could see Ulquiorra riding just behind her. There was a whistling sound in the air "stay low!" he called. Orihime flattened herself as an arrow went sailing over her head, "ride for the woods!"

The two horses raced for the tree line, arrows and nightmares at their back. Finally her steed broached the tree line and rode through the forrest. Ulquiorra was hot on her heels. There was a trail in the forrest he had cleared, one that was hard to see if one did not know that it was there. They raced along the path for as long as he thought was safe, at least long enough that the people who were sent after them could get to the woods and try to find them. He did not want to risk giving their location away, the pale colors they wore were enough to make it even easier to spot them in the darkness. He pulled his horse up and Orihime quickly did the same, seeing him out of the corner of her eye. He got off his horse and came over to help her get off hers.

"Thank you--Ulquiorra you're bleeding," she gasped.

He looked down to see his jacket was torn. One of the arrows must have grazed him. He pressed his fingers to the wound. It hurt but it wasn't deep--or, he imagined, poisoned.

"I'll be fine," he said, "we need to abandon the horses and keep moving. Take off your dress."

"What?" she gasped looking at the garment.

"You are wearing enough underneath to preserve your modesty," he said, "we need to mislead them," he said.

"A-alright but you've got to help me," she said turning around.

Adrenaline made it easy to undo the buttons of her dress and not to think about the fact that he was undressing the Princess. The dress fell to the ground with a soft sound of heavy silk as she stepped out of it. He picked it up and looked at the limp thing. They needed to make it stand up. Orihime's fingers were already reaching behind her and undoing the ties of her petticoats. They came off easily as well. Uqluiorra took them and stuffed them into the dress, tying it on with the reins. It looked misshapen but it was bright enough that it would throw them off for a bit. He sent the horses running off in one direction and turned to face the Princess.

Apparently the undergarments for such a dress were a bit more compromising than he had originally thought.

Her bottom half was alright, completely covered anyway. But the corset ended dangerously low on her breasts. Pink stained her cheeks as she tried to figure out the best way to cover herself, though the night was by no means cold. Ulquiorra quickly undid his jacket and offered it to her. Red faced she accepted it and pulled it on, doing up the buttons to preserve at least some of her modesty. The rip in the side was unfortunate but at least she was covered.

"Come, we need to keep moving," he said.

Orihime nodded as the two of them made their way deeper into the woods.

* * *

**Alright so I just transfered the oneshot to here. **

**Updates soon! **


	2. Chapter 2

"She got away, the Captain went with her. Also, we can't find the Duke of Jeagerjaques."

"They _what_?!"

The man cringed as the ambassador whirled around in a blaze of violet silk. Annoying Lady Kuchiki was _not_ a good idea and he had just taken the stupidity of the idea to a new level. They were standing in one of the few remaining parts of the palace that had not been destroyed in the attack. Though she had let her hair down, Rukia was still dressed in her gown from earlier. It was fortunate for the man, he knew that if she was in her battle cloths there was probably nothing that could save him. As it was Rukia balled he fists and took a deep breath, fixing him with a gaze that had him wondering if he had time to change his pants before she gave the orders.

"Find her," she hissed, her voice low and dead, "I don't care how long it takes, how hard you search--_find her_!" He bowed as low as he could and ran, "and you!" she rounded on another man, "send word to the King and inform him of the Princess's escape."

"Yes, Ambassador," he said bowing and hurrying to do what she asked.

Rukia allowed herself another moment of visible frustration before she headed into the palace to speak to the Prince. If the King had listened to her advice this would not have happened. They would have had the Princess and the treasure in no time. But he had to do things his own way, the fool and his traditions. though he loved them just as much, at the very least her brother had some practicality in him. She doubted the King had a practical bone in his body. Now she had to have men out combing the woods and the King was probably going to have to recall the Countess from hunting down the Wizard to come and help. Of course she was going to _love_ that, she'd probably kill the Wizard out of pure spite before they found the treasure.

She finally find the Prince sitting on the stairs, his hands clasped loosely on his knees. He seemed almost sad by how things had played out. Inwardly Rukia rolled her eyes. Like the rest of the court she could practically _see_ the stars that had danced in his eyes. But they hadn't even really interacted past one night. Instant true love? It was pathetic. He would still marry the girl eventually, this just happened to be one step in a big plan, they had to make sure the Kingdom of Las Noches was without a monarch. That way Ichigo would immediately be the King. As long as that happened then the three most powerful Kingdoms would be united, with Las Noches being the weakest as it should be.

"Her Guard got her away," she said.

"Makes sense," Ichigo said, "Ulquiorra's a good fighter."

"Stop looking so damn depressed!" she barked, "we're going to get her back and you two can ride happily into the sunset or whatever the hell it is royalty like you does."

Ichigo looked up at her cold violet eyes. It was funny, most people treated him with some respect but from the moment she had shown up in Court, Rukia Kuchiki had treated him like something disgusting she would find on the bottom of her shoe. Though he didn't like it that much, Ichigo had to admit it was somewhat of a refreshing change. He just wished she knew how to smile. Aside from a fake one or her devious I'll-kick-you-later smirk, he didn't think he had seen a genuine smile on her china doll features.

"That's rich coming from you," he said,"you're Nobility too."

"I'm adopted, it doesn't count," she snapped.

"I'm sure the Prince feels that way," he said. Rukia narrowed her eyes and he knew he overstepped his boundaries, "what'd the guards say?" he asked, quickly changing his tact.

"They're going to find her," Rukia said, "they can't have gotten far."

"Underestimating Ulquiorra is a mistake you only make once," he said.

"You did win," she said.

"No," he shook his head, "no-one won that war."

Rukia resisted the urge, barely, to kick him.

The _last_ thing she needed at the moment was a noble, self righteous Prince.

**

* * *

**

"Um, Ulquiorra? Where are we going?"

Ulquiorra turned his head. Orihime looked at him anxiously. Though she knew better than to speak while they were running, he knew she had many questions. He doubted she could be comfortable, dressed as she was. At least her shoes were frilly but not high. She hadn't breathed a word of discomfort though, even if her hair was falling out of its up-do and she was stuck wading through the forrest dressed in elaborate underwear and his jacket.

"We're going to a village in the Lily Province," he said, "there's someone there who might be able to help us."

"Oh, okay," she said.

"We should be there soon," he said.

Orihime nodded as they continued along the way in silence. Finally Ulquiorra saw the handful of lights coming from the houses through the trees. He moved forward much more slowly, Orihime matching his pace exactly. He had trained her in the basics of fighting but, most importantly, he had taught her how to make it easy to be protected. She knew where to stand to keep out of the way but not get grabbed by anyone, she knew hot to follow his lead when it came to sneaking up or running away. She would never be as good a fighter he was but because she was good at what he taught her, they had a distinct advantage over anyone they faced in a battle or kidnapping attempt. They were, in simplified terms, a pair.

He glanced back at her. She gave a quick nod of understanding and waited while he stepped forward. It seemed to be quiet. They had been followed but apparently it was not close enough that someone had predicted where they were going. Honestly they had no reason too. The village was a quiet one, especially to just a passing glance. There were a few people who were outside sitting around enjoying the warm night air, more were inside with their families. It was the epitome of a cozy little village. One house sat a bit higher than the others. He could just make out the figure sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, he knew that he would be humming and grinning despite the fact that there was absolutely no reason for it.

He turned and gave a quick not to Orihime. The Princess nodded in understanding and crept silently forward, her feet making barely any sound on the ground. Together they slipped out of the forrest and into the village. Ulquiorra moved silently and quickly, Orihime staying in his view and moving in the same manner as him. They made their way to the house that was a bit higher than the others. As they got closer he heard the humming to accompany the gentle squeak of the rocking chair. The moment Ulquiorra stepped onto the bottom stair, he heard the rocking and humming pause for a fraction of a second before it started back up again. Figuring that was as much of an invitation as they would get he moved Orihime so she was in front of him before they began to walk up the stairs.

He was sitting in a rocking chair, his feet propped up against the rail that encircled the porch. Next to his feet was a hawk who looked at them reproachfully. The man on the other hand, he looked just as Ulquiorra remembered, same eery grin, same ruby were legends that said he had spilled so much blood that it stained his soul enough to turn his eyes red. Ulquiorra had never believed that legend, he might have been stained but his eyes had been red since birth. His silvery hair had gotten longer than he remembered, falling into his partially closed eyes. Though there was no sword near him, Ulquiorra knew with certainty that if he wanted them dead, they and anyone else he cared to kill, would be dead.

"Hello Gin," he said.

Gin Ichimaru, the so-called Fox Demon of Las Noches, turned his face to Ulquiorra and brightened his grin.

"Hello Captain Schiffer," he said, "you're looking very shaken up this evening," his head moved forward, "and the Flower Princess," he leaned back in his chair, "my porch is turning into a fairy tale."

He turned to the hawk and reached into his pocket, tossing a piece of dried meat at the bird. He caught it in his beak.

"You don't seem to be surprised to see us here," he said.

"People like us, we don't get surprised," he said pushing himself up, "well lets get you inside before someone sees the half naked Princess and her bodyguard on my porch," he shook his head, "I hate scandals, its why I left Court."

The house was anything but that of a killer. It was actually rather cozy. Like most of the houses there was one central room that took up most of that space. In the corner was a warm fire. At the moment a beautiful woman was bent over the pot on the fire, checking the contents. Her strawberry blond hair was tied back for practical reasons. Even if she was in a dress designed for every day wear and tear, on her it looked better than it would have on most. She brushed her hands on the apron and

turned around, spoon in her hand, grey eyes flashing dangerously.

"You told me you were keeping watch! Don't think you're getting out of the dishes just becau---Princess! Captain Schiffer!" her eyes landed on Gin, "_what_ did you do?!"

"You'd think after all we've been through she'd have some faith this wasn't my fault," Gin said with a grin.

"That is _exactly_ why I think this was your fault," she said brandishing the spoon.

It was not known how Gin Ichimaru wound up meeting Rangiku Matsumoto, only that they had been reunited later in life during the war. He had been on a spy mission and they had bumped into each other. They had fought on opposing sides, Soul Society against Las Noches and against Karakura in the Great War. But once the treaty had been signed, many of the warriors decided not to fight anymore. Gin and Mastumoto had been two of them. No-one was sure when she got there but the woman from the country that was their enemy somehow managed to ingrain herself in the daily life of the village. As everyone had quickly learned, it was very hard to dislike Matsumoto, especially when she showed that she did not care what Gin was capable of--that and if he relapsed to killing, she'd probably kill him for doing it.

"There was an attack on the palace," Ulquiorra said looking at him.

"What?" Matsumoto breathed, "did you hear anything?" she looked at Gin who shook his head, "are you alright?" she questioned looking at Orihime.

"M-me?" she asked looking at her, "I'm fine," she said, one of her hands gripping the fabric of Ulquiorra's jacket.

"Come on," she said walking over to where Orihime was, "lets get you changed," she looked at Gin, "you get him fixed up."

Gin nodded as Matsumoto led the Princess off. Gin motioned for Ulquiorra to come over to him. The Captain obeyed, sitting down in front of the man. He turned to the kettle boiling alongside the pot, pulling off the heat. Grabbing a cloth he soaked it in the heated water. Ulquiorra removed his outer shirt and his under one, exposing the torn gash in his side. Gin pressed the hot cloth against the cut. Ulquiorra dug his fingers into his knee as he struggled to keep from moving away from the stinging sensation. Gin cleaned the wound with brutal efficiency that came from doing patch jobs on the battlefield.

"You're not poisoned," Gin said, "and its not deep," he smirked "got it saving a Princess did you?"

"As is my task," Ulquorra said as though it was the most obvious thing the world. Gin smiled and shook his head, "I do not know who attacked the palace, or why."

"Come on, even I can figure that out," Gin snorted, "or maybe your mind's been on other things," he grabbed a roll of linen bandages from a box above the hearth and began to wind them around Ulquiorra's chest, "there wasn't going to be peace in Karakura and Soul Society. Maybe with Karakura but Soul Society, they would never allow it."

"You thought there'd be an attack?" Ulquiorra demanded, "did you inform the King?"

"You're talking to someone who regularly thinks the world's not going to be there when they open their eyes," he said, "the King doesn't entertain my threats. He's long become too egotistical for that, he requires proof and proof I didn't have. Besides, you thin he'd miss the opportunity to show off in front of them both?"

"Both weren't supposed to be there--they weren't there. Just the Ambassador Kuchiki."

"Do you really think that the Prince would let his beloved sister go to the Kingdom of his enemy if he did not know that she would have the entirety of Karakura to keep her safe? No, Karakura chose their alliance with Soul Society, not with you."

"But they agreed to the marriage. Contracts have been signed--" Ulquiorra stopped, "so they could get the Kingdom. With the King out of the way that leaves Orihime as the sole ruler and as her husband--"

"Ichigo Kurosaki will gain the Kingdom of Las Noches," he said.

"Well that doesn't sound like a fun night," Gin smirked, "glad I burned that invitation."

Ulquiorra let him tie off the bandages, his eyes going to the back of the house. He knew that Matsumoto was helping Orihime get out of her corset and into clean, simple cloths. He also knew that the fact the only family she ever knew was gone probably hadn't registered yet. He had pushed her hard, intent on getting her to some kind of safety before they figured out their next move. But it s only a matter of time--brief time--before she realized what had happened. His ears strained to hear if she was crying but all he heard was the sound of cloth being moved and women's low voices speaking behind the door. Gin smirked and leaned back in his chair.

"If she needs you, she'll call for you. That girl trusts you above anyone else, now that her father's dead," he shrugged.

"He was your _King_," Ulquiorra said, shocked at how causally Gin said it.

"He's dead," Gin said getting to his feet, "my oath is to the crown and right now, the crown is right over there getting changed. Crying over him won't us any good."

"Kurosaki can't have the throne, not like this," he said darkly.

"No," Gin said, "which means you're going to have to get Orihime onto the throne as a ruler in her own right," Ulquiorra looked at him blankly, "you have to find the Wizard. The only one who can name the Ruler of Las Noches is the Wizard."

"No-one knows where the Wizard is," he said, "he's always in hiding, always moving. He's the only one who can name the Rulers for all Three of the Kingdoms," he looked at Gin, "you know how to find him."

"No," Gin said, "I might've been there at the King's coronation but no-one knows for certain how to find the Wizard."

Ulquiorra sighed and bent down, picking up his torn shirt. They had to find the Wizard that couldn't be found, create a female ruler out of a Princess who could no more lead than listen to frightening tales without shrieking in fear and find a way to do it before the two other powerful Kingdoms found their way to him. Even for someone who had fought against impossible odds, the task seemed dauntingly so. There was just no way to do that. Not when they had two Kingdoms chasing them, not when so much was at stake. But if Ichigo gained the Kingdom through treachery, then not only would it shame the entire Kingdom but it would lead, without a doubt, to the next Great War. The people were still healing from the first, another was not something they could deal with, not yet anyway.

"How are we supposed to do that?" he asked looking at Gin.

"Don't ask me that," Gin said, "I'm old," he shrugged, "I've done my own miracles, now its time for you to start pulling them off yourself."

**

* * *

**

With a screech of pure fury the messenger hawk tucked its wings and dove downwards, its talons outstretched as it landed on the gloved fist of the woman who held out her arm. Stiff leather was designed for mobility and limited protection but chain mail would slow her down far more than she could allow. It was stained dark green and brown, designed to allow her to move through the woods without being easily spotted. Around her shoulders was a dark brown cloak to help disguise her warrior's form. Her preferred weapon, a blade, was strapped to her waist while a quiver of arrows was on her back, her bow unstrung and tucked next to it. Dark amber eyes surveyed the bird from under the hood of her cloak.

She withdrew the message with a gloved hand, the bird moving from her hand to her shoulder. She slit the seal of the message and scanned the contents quickly, her eyes effortlessly absorbing the information and committing it to memory. She quickly burned the paper, scuffing the ashes with the toe of her boot. Turning she walked back to her steed. Two men were waiting on their own beasts, their eyes constantly moving around for threats. They were dressed similar to her and though she had been loathed to bring them along she knew it was far easier to capture a Wizard with two men than it was by herself.

Reaching into her bag she pulled out a sheaf of parchment and a stick of charcoal. She wrote a reply and rolled the message up so that it wouldn't smudge. She slid the message into the tube on the bird's back and moved the hawk onto her fist. Walking to a clearer part of the woods she drew back her wrist and threw the bird upwards, giving him a push towards the clouds. The creature soared upwards towards the heavens and flew off towards the King of Soul Society. She turned and walked back to her horse, pulling herself into the saddle with effortless grace that she could not hide, no matter how hard she tried to mask it.

"New orders, milady?" one asked.

"Yes. You two are to return to the Capital to await new orders from the KIng."

"But Princess Shihon--" one began.

Yoruichi glared, her gold eyes glinting dangerously. She tried to wean the men off titles but they insisted. Usually they remembered to just call her milady, the lowest title she could convince them to use. But sometimes they slipped up. That was a mess if there ever was one. Though not in line for the throne directly, Yoruichi was high ranking enough to have the title of Princess. While she did not relish the finery and glory of Court, the training she received there made her a very good assassin for the King's dirtier jobs, like tracking down Wizards who would put ruts in very well thought out plans by declaring unworthy Princesses the Rulers of Kingdoms that could not be left to their own devices.

"Your orders are clear," she snapped, "I go after the Wizard myself," they did not move, "that was not a request. Go!"

Reluctantly they began to move. Yoruichi watched them go before she buried her heels in the sides of her steed. She had to make it through the next province by nightfall. Rumor had it the Wizard was somewhere in Karakura and she was going to find him. The last Ruler that had been named by the Wizard was the King of Las Noche. No-one else knew how he did it, nor would they tell her. So she was just going to have to find him and make sure that he was good and captured before he had the chance to do anything of the sort. She had a feeling that the Princess would somehow convince him to name her the new Ruler, voiding her contract with Prince Kurosaki. No betrothal contract, no throne of Las Noches. The three Kingdoms would be equal once again.

That was not something she could allow.

As long as Las Noches was good and crushed, there was no threat. The second they started to gain power the power struggle began. Karakura and Soul Society were wise and civilized enough that if they got equal shares of the Kingdom and held to the alliance, everything would be fine. The people in Las Noches were scum, everyone knew that. The last thing they needed was to be lining up behind the infamous Flower Princess and causing trouble. It was Yoruichi's task to make sure that the Flower Princess did not become the Flower Queen.

Even if the King had ordered her to return.

Well, no matter. Once she returned with the Wizard, all would be forgiven. It was not like the King was going to be able to find someone else to bring him back. No-one else was capable of finding, capturing and bringing the Wizard back. It would be her hand that did it. Though truly she did not really need more glory to her name, she had already brought the House of Shihon far more riches and titles than any one family needed. Well, she supposed another couldn't hurt. It would be fun to go down in the history books as the woman who had captured and returned the Wizard to the King of Soul Society.

Finally her horse broke through the tree line. She slowed her horse from a hard gallop to a slower pace, making sure to let him cool off before she stopped him completely. She made her way into the village, her eyes scanning the people as she looked for any sort of sign that he could be there. She did not think it would be obvious but, then again, it would not be impossible either. She did not have any clear descriptions to go on, nor did she know exactly what he looked like. But she did have the one thing that no-one else who would hunt him had, she had the name he was going by. He would not tell the people he was a wizard, but apparently he used a name that they would know. It was funny, really, it might even be his own name. If it was he was a sorry excuse for a Wizard in the name department.

The tavern was easy to spot. Yoruichi dismounted her horse, tying him up outside and walking into the dim room. It was a standard affair, a tavern with rooms above to rent. But as she was finding out, many things in Karakura were standard. Standard and predictable. She would be bored out of her mind within days if she stayed in this place. She walked over to the bar where a man was running a cloth down the length of wood.

"What can I get you?" he asked.

"A name," Yoruichi said, not wasting time with the pleasantries she usually suffered in exchange for information, "tell me where Heikichi Koizumi is."

"Old man Heikichi?" the man snorted, "you must be new to the province. The old man lives a few villages over."

Yoruichi nodded and turned to go.

"Yep, right on the hill with the others who died and were buried in that fire a couple years ago."

Yoruichi froze. She turned around slowly.

"What did you say?" she demanded, "Heikichi's _dead_?"

"Yes," the man said, "but if your after a wise man like Heikichi, go to the village anyway. He taught everything he knows to a man there."

The Wizard had an heir. Yoruichi felt her gloved fists tightening. So there was someone to find and drag back after all. Wizards did not just die, not with so few of them left and certainly not one like Heikichi. He had taught everything he knew onto a worthy heir, someone who could name the next Ruler and cause just as much trouble. Hopefully he was just a starry eyed young man that she could easily capture and bring in. The King wouldn't be happy at the situation but there was little to be done about that.

"Who do I ask for?" she asked.

"Lets see," he said, "had some strange name--" he frowned for a moment in thoughtful consideration, "Kisuke Urahara," he said snapping his fingers together, "you go and ask for Kisuke Urahara."

Yoruichi was gone by the time he raised his head.


	3. Chapter 3

Matsumoto's deft fingers moved across the fabric, the needle she wielded flashing with the same grace and dexterity as when she had used a blade instead of a needle. She was putting the last few stitches into the garment she was adjusting for the Princess. The two were about the same size but she wanted to make the cloths a bit looser. No sense in letting the people on the road see any more of the Princess's beauty than they had to. She had taken the first watch but she wanted to finish her work before she went to bed.

Finally satisfied with the garment she tied off the thread and cut it, laying the pants with the few other pieces she had adjusted for the Princess. Standing up she walked over to the bed she shared with Gin. Reaching up she pulled the handful of pins out of her hair, letting the strawberry blond locks cascade down her back. In her youth and days on the battlefield she had worn her hair short. Long hair had little place in fighting. But now that she no longer lived by her blade, she had grown her hair long. Now it fell past her shoulders, almost to mid back in strawberry blond waves that Gin just loved to comb his fingers through. Usually she let it hang free but today had been a day spent bent over pots so she had pinned it back.

Her fingers undid the buttons of her dress, the cotton garment falling to the ground in a pool of cloth. Though she imagined her lightweight leather armor had done far more for her figure, she liked the dresses she wore. Once again thanks to her day she had been forced to wear a darker one. She far preferred her brighter dresses. She walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a pale pink nightdress, slipping it over her head as she let the dirty one stay on the ground. She did not want to wear such a dreary thing for a good long while. With a yawn she walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back, curling up in the soft confines. she would never tire of the soft bed. That alone was worth retirement.

She must have dozed because it seemed like one moment she was laying her head down and the next the door was opening as Gin walked through from his watch. His usual grin and slitted eyes vanished as he relaxed, his mouth becoming neutral as his ruby eyes opened fully. His hands reached up and tugged the shirt off his chest. Matsumoto opened her eyes fully and propped her head up on her hand, watching him undress. His movements were still assured and smooth, every flex of muscle speaking of grace and power.

"You watchin me Ran?" he asked looking over at her with a lopsided smile, the genuine one that only she got to see.

"Well there's hardly anything else to look at," she said with a coy smile.

Gin shook his head, plainly amused at her as he changed into his own nightcloths before coming over to bed with her. He climbed in next to her, leaning over her to blow out the lamp she had kept lit. They were both good enough to find their way in the dark. Matsumoto immediately turned herself so her back pressed against the hard plane of Gin's chest. His arms came around her easily as he held her against him.

"This was an exciting day," Gin said.

"Do you ever miss it?" she asked, "the fighting? Living by the sword? All the excitement?"

"Sometimes," he said, one of his fingers touching her hair, "but then I remember the blood, the people--" his voice trailed off.

It was odd really, no-one would probably ever believe that the one time Demon had a bone in his body that was capable of feeling guilt. Matsumoto hadn't believed it herself until she had witnessed Gin supporting the idea of peace. He might not have wanted to play nice with the other kinds, in fact she was rather inclined to think that if he had the chance there was a fairly long list of people in Soul Society he'd like to go around killing, but the fact was that Gin had grown tired of the constant fighting. He claimed there was no excitement, no challenge in it anymore. It wasn't like anyone was going to be able to beat him.

He also did not want to kill her.

It was inevitable that it would happen if the fighting continued. Every time they had met on the battlefield it had gotten closer and closer to him killing her. Each time that tragedy had been avoided but they both knew that it could not go on forever. He did not want to kill her but the King would want to fight. So he had done the only thing he could and stopped fighting. She had done the same and tracked him down, moving in the very day she found him. She would not wield a sword in the name of a King she had fought against and he would not forsake the King he had sworn his life to, so they gave up fighting all together. She might not have liked him spying for the King but she doubted anyone was truly completely happy with their lives. She was more glad he wasn't murdering her friends and comrades.

"But you stopped," she said turning in his arms and pressing her chest together, "you did something else which is a lot more than most could have done."

"Well when you make someone glad to me alive," he said, his fingers trailing down the length of her spine, "it makes risking your sorry ass a lot harder to do."

"Mmm, well, only one of us thinks your ass is sorry," she said scooting even closer to him.

Gin just grinned.

Hours later, in the main room Orihime opened her eyes to the warm colors of Gin's cabin.

She lay there for a bit longer, enjoying the warmth that came with such a place. She imagined the homeyness was probably far more Matsumoto's doing than it was Gin's. She had heard too many tales of what Gin had done during the war to believe that he had put the time in to make sure that there was a rug on the floor or that the linens on the beds were clean. Matsumoto had done her fair share of fighting but there was a sense of healing, of renewal about the woman that did not linger with Gin Ichimaru.

Gingerly Orihime pushed herself up. She was in a simple linen shift the color of the summer sky. Matsumoto had assured her that she had a few cloths that she could give the Princess to help make sure she did not stick out like a sore thumb. When she had laid down she had been determined to think about what had happened but the moment her head hit the pillow she sound asleep. Carefully she got to her feet next to her bed and stepped forward. Thankfully the floor did not make sound as she tiptoed across the expanse towards the door. She did not see Ulquiorra anywhere. Quickly she realized he was probably keeping watch outside. Carefully she opened the door and confirmed her suspicion.

Apparently Gin had lent him cloths. He was dressed in dark pants and a linen shirt that seemed to be a bit too big on him. Then again she imagined that the white formal uniform of the guard would be far too conspicuous for the area. He was not sitting as Gin had been but standing, his forearms leaning against the rail as his emerald eyes constantly swept the village. It was just before dawn, early enough that people were trying to steal their last few hours of sleep before the day started. The village was completely dark except for the handful of lights in the watchtower on the outskirts. Still she imagined Ulquiorra wouldn't have any trouble spotting enemies. He had been a warrior, even before she met him and retirement to the palace had never really sat well with him. Though he did not turn at her approach he knew that he was aware of her presence.

"You should be inside, Princess," he said, his eyes still focused ahead.

"I couldn't sleep anymore," she said walking onto the balcony until she drew level with him, "how long until we return to the palace?" she asked.

"It may be some time," he said, "until we know what is going on," he continued, "I will not risk your safety by returning."

"But--"

"Your duty is to remain alive," he cut her off before protests could spill from her lips.

Orihime looked down. At her silence Ulquiorra dared to look over at the Princess before he immediately returned his eyes forward. She was dressed in a simple sky blue short shift. Despite the lack of covering the corset had given her, the clothing she wore now showed far more creme skin than he was used to seeing. Unbound and unadorned, Orihime's long hair fell down to the small of her back in a sunset wore none of the jewelry or ornamentation of her station. She could have been any woman standing there, except that he doubted anyone would be able to take their eyes off her. Orihime's grey eyes were troubled as she looked at him and then at the town in front of them. She seemed to see nothing wrong with the way she was dressed, virtually in her underwear. But, then again, there was no reason for her to find that awkward.

This was the first time in many years that the Princess had been out of the palace.

Oh she had been outside, in the sheltered gardens or a handful of prearranged locations where everything had been planned from how her feet touched the ground to whose hands she touched had been endlessly planned and mapped out. There was no control here. Nothing had been planned or mapped out or decided. They were existing by the moment and that was the most terrifying thing in the world. The impulsiveness of battle was something that he did not miss. He had fought for control there and struggled to keep it in the palace. In one night it had been ripped away once again by the same people who had torn it away all those years ago. Unfortunately now there was far more at stake than the glory of a kingdom. That had seemed like the end of the world back then. Now he had to protect the sole heir to the kingdom.

At least Orihime Inoue was a person, not an ideal.

Though she represented every ideal the country had, she at least was living, breathing flesh. He could protect that with far more ease. At the moment doubt and guilt shone in her grey eyes. He knew that she trusted him above all others, that she was more than used to his sometimes callous ways but every so often he would come off almost--almost as if he were scolding her. Truthfully he did not mean to do it, but he was used to dealing with soldiers who knew better than to take his tone seriously. Of all the things that Orihime had been, of all the things she would be, solider was not one of them--not if he had anything to say about it.

"I know," she said finally, her voice soft, "I was just worried."

"You are too easily affected by your emotions,' he said, his voice low but thankfully lacking harsh force behind his words.

"Thats what I have you for," she said with a soft smile, "you always remind me when I let my emotions get out of control."

Leave it to the Princess to see past his front. She had not thought of him as cold for a while. Though they had not known each other for many many years, they had known each other long enough that she was not put off by how he acted. Even now he found his ability to remain aloof and cold, compromised by her presence. It was odd how a simple smile, a bright laugh, the acts of kindness--they all seemed to affect him far more easily than a physical blow ever had.

"You should try to rest," he said, his voice softening further, "we have a long day ahead of us."

"I can't sleep anymore," she said, "why do we have such a long day ahead of us?" she asked finally, her bow furrowing.

"I spoke to Gin," he said, "he feels that it is not wise for us to return to the capital and I agree with him. The likelihood that our enemies have left the capital is nonexistent. We must get as far away from them as we can."

"Where will we go?" she asked.

"We are going to the Iris province," he said, "to Kishoubu."

"Kishoubu," she repeated, worry and excitement shining in her eyes.

Ulquiorra looked at her, hating the idea just as much as she was enthralled with it. Kishoubu was in the Iris province, the province that bordered the ocean. Most of it was fine but one particular cove had become the haven of thieves and pirates. Kishoubu was the place and the name of the people who inhabited it. The King had done what he could to conquer it but to fight the Kishoubu was virtual suicide. Gin had been involved in one of the battles, long before he was a commander. Three days of fighting and only he and three others had survived, thrown on the palace steps like scraps even a dog would not want. The King had finally struck up a treaty with the Pirate King, granting him domain over the land of Kishoubu if he would not attack the people of Las Noches. He had agreed, so long as the people did not give him a reason to do so. It was rumored that Soul Society and Karakura had tried to gain his support only to suffer similar fates.

Orihime had never been to Kishoubu and with good reason. Kidnapping the heir to the throne would be a perfect way for the Pirate King to gain more land, even if he controlled one of the best docks in any Kingdom. At the moment they had no choice. If anyone was to know what was going on, it was someone in Kishoubu. Going back to where their enemies were was a very bad idea, even if by some miracle they had one. His duty was to keep the Princess safe and alive. If they returned three days later to find everything was alright, then he would gladly accept whatever punishment the King saw fit. If they were not traveling under a Royal flag, then Kishoubu would not notice the influx of two people. As long as he could keep them from knowing who they were, who _she_ was, then everything should be alright. Or so he prayed.

"Its not more than two days hard ride from here. By sunrise we should have fresh horses that should be up to the ride."

"Mastumoto said she's got cloths. I hope that she's got pants I can wear," she said picking at the hem of her shift.

"Try to rest," he said. She opened her mouth, "at least sit down," he said nodding towards the rocking chair.

Orihime walked over to the rocking chair, agreeing to his compromise. Gin had left a blanket on the chair. She sat down, tucking her knees to her chest and pulling the blanket around her body. The chair began to rock back and forth with momentum, squeaking against the wood of the porch. Ulquiorra kept his eyes ahead as he heard her rock back and forth behind him. After a moment she began to hum softly, her voice soft and gentle behind him. He knew the tune well.

It was the song that had led him to her that day so long ago.

**

* * *

**

The sun was just rising over the hills of Cardus as Kisuke Urahara, former apprentice to the Wizard Heikichi, stepped out of his house. Dressed in green, as he tended to do, the man stretched his arms over his head and yawned loudly enough to wake the dog that slept curled near his front door. The creature turned its head towards him, glaring at the man reproachfully--a gesture that seemed to cling to the people now as much as it had to Heikichi during his training. Well he supposed it was warranted. After all, before meeting the Wizard he had been the peculiar one in the village, the fool who was actually far too smart to be called by such a title. Though he supposed fool was far easier on the tongue than strange, curious boy.

It wasn't his fault that he found things fascinating. They just happened to be things that did not have much to do with everyday life. The very old and the very young seemed to enjoy his company, his fascination with the strange and unusual. It was the people his own age or relatively close to it that seemed not to understand him. Well it was not like he placed much stock in their opinion anyway. The very young he liked, their eyes were wide and their minds were innocent. He supposed that with so little to work with, it made sense that they came up with the most fantastic ways of looking at the world. The old seemed to work along the same route, but they knew more--or most of them did anyway. But they would always listen to his theories, his explanations and offer their own crazy ones in return.

"Good morning Urahara!"

He turned his head to see Ururu Tsumugiya coming out of the little house next door, her basket tucked over her arm. She was a little girl, orphaned at birth. Urahara had taken her in before they had both been taken in by Heikichi. He had set her up in a little house right next door. Every morning the two of them went out to collect herbs for Heikichi. Even though the old man was dead they continued to do it. Herbs were needed for the medicines and healing Urahara had to do. Despite their dislike for him the fact was that they needed him. Though they did not know that Urahara was a true Wizard, but that was something he could never tell them. It was a fortunate thing that he did not crave the glory or respect of simple minded people--otherwise he would tell them everything. Perhaps that was why Heikichi had chosen him. Though Wizards were glorious creatures, they could not seek glory themselves. Glory came only after the deeds, not before.

"Hello Ururu. It looks like today's gonna be a bright day. Bright day means lots of trouble."

"Its too early to tell that Urahara," Ururu said with a smile looking up at the cloudy day.

"Well then, lets see how its going to go," Urahara said.

The two of them walked down to the path that led to the forrest that surrounded the village. It was a narrow thing, more of a line than a path, not even wide enough for two people to walk side by side on. Heikichi claimed to have made it himself one day when finding a particular herb was being rather frustrating. He had said that the herb only grew by water and so, water he had used. Now a thin piece of barren earth wound its way through the best spots to find the herbs necessary for healing and medicine. It made Ururu and Urahara's life a lot easier. Though the fact remained that only Urahara could see it. Ururu was careful to step behind him as they made their way into the woods to collect the things they needed for the day. Or the things they thought they would need anyway, one could never be sure of what they would need throughout the day. Even a Wizard.

"Tell me again, Urahara, tell me the story of the Princess."

Urahara smiled down at the girl as they picked their way through the woods.

"Again?" he inquired, "I thought I told you that story last night."

"I know," Ururu said scuffing her foot, "but its such a wonderful story. I don't ever tire of hearing of it."

"Well, when we have to go and name the next Ruler, you'll come with me and we'll meet her and you can tell her how fascinating you find her," Ururu's eyes lit up, "alright the story of the Princess, as told by Kisuke Urahara, the humble wise man of the Village of Cardus."

"You're not old enough to be a wise man," Ururu said, "but you are crazy enough."

"Oh thats nice," Urahara said, "do you want me to tell you the story of the King of Pirates again?" Ururu shook her head, "alright, the story of the Princess, once again."

"A very long time ago, back when I was still young and you weren't even on this earth, there was a great war between the three biggest Kingdoms in the Land: Las Noches, Soul Society and Karakura. Now, Karakura and Sou Society, though intent on winning, thought far more similarly on matters such as how their people should be governed, who the Gods were, things like that. While Las Noches was different then them--"

"We they right then?" Ururu asked.

"Maybe," he said turning to help her over a boulder, "but I'm sure if you asked the people of Las Noches, you'd get a different answer," he shrugged, "anyway, in the war there were heroes--as there tend be in war--and two of them were our own Prince Ichigo Kurosaki and the Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer. Now they were two terribly brave men who tended to fight, as terribly brave men tend to do. Battle after battle they fought. Even when peace came they weren't terribly happy about not being able to hit each other with their swords--"

"People stab each other," Ururu pointed out, "they don't hit each other."

"Excellent point," he said poking her in the shoulder. Ururu giggled, "now, even in peace there was a mess to be cleaned up. After all, war is messy. Now there is one place in all the world where the three kingdoms meet. That place is called--" he looked over at her.

"Aozora."

"Exactly," he said, "once peace had been declared, all the soldiers were allowed to go to the battlefield and find their dead to bring them back and give them proper burials. Aozora was a mess," he said, "and it smelled terrible. So in the terrible smelly mess, the people who hated each other but couldn't kill each other, tried to find their friends and bring them home. Captain Schiffer was a hero by then but in his last fight with the Prince he had been injured very badly. He couldn't drag anyone but he was out there looking for his friends like everyone else. As he walked though, he got attacked by a man. Maybe it was the Prince, maybe it was someone else but he was hit with a certain type of poison. He knew he was going to die but he kept looking for his friends, knowing that he if he could find someone who was alive he would have saved a life instead of taken it. He could die with some peace."

"And then he saw her," Ururu interrupted breathlessly.

"You haven't been paying attention have you?" Urahara said, causing the little girl to blush, "he didn't see anything. There were fires and smoke. He shouldn't have heard anything either, but he did. He heard the sound of a girl humming. And then he saw her. Some people said she was wearing the clouds, other said that she was wearing just white. It had been a very long time since they had seen anything pure. She made her way around the dead and dying. She did not run or hide, just walked. Some said she was looking for something but most agree that she was looking for someone. Even though he was hurt, he heard her. He followed the sound of her song and he found her walking among the dead, but she was alive and unstained by them."

"Maybe it was chance, maybe it was something more but tucked behind the girl's ear was a flower, one that only grows in the fields that surround Aozora, one that should have been burned down. The two met among the dead, among the dying, among the people that Captain Schiffer would soon join. The girl didn't say anything. Whether she could speak or not was unknown then. She just continued to hum. She untucked the flower from her hair and pressed it to the wound. It was the only thing that could cure the poison that would have killed him. That day the two of them saved each other. Captain Schiffer brought her back to the King."

"Without an heir," Ururu spoke up.

"Yes, the King didn't have children. But the girl had done something very brave that day. She had saved one of their heroes. She had given the people of Las Noches hope. So the King said she was a gift from the Gods. He took her into his home as the people took her into their hearts. The name the Flower Princess stuck and that is how Las Noches came to have Orihime Inoue, the Flower Princess as their hope and light. And to this day, Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer guards her from all the harm and evil in the world."

Ururu clapped her hands together in delight at the tale.

"So when we go to see her, will Captain Schiffer be there too?" she asked with a breathless smile.

"Oh, I imagine he will be," Urahara said, "are you going to tell him how wonderful he is?" she nodded enthusiastically, "something tells me you will embarrass poor Captain Schiffer."

"Why'd he be embarrassed?" Ururu asked.

"That, my dear Ururu is something I'm going to have to explain to you when you're a bit older," he glanced over his shoulder, "I'm going to get those over there," he said pointing to the herbs nearby, "you want to go get the rosemary over the hill?"

"Okay!" she said with a bright smile skipping off.

Urahara bent to pick the herbs. He knew Ururu would get the rosemary over the hill. She was close enough that if she needed anything she could call for him. His fingers worked deftly as he picked the herbs, piling them into the cloth he had in his pocket. He was probably going to take the basket from Ururu in a little while but he knew she liked to carry it. She claimed it made her feel grown up. Covering the herbs with the cloth he stood up, tying the bundle off and slipping it into his pocket. He looked up to see the sun slowly beginning to poke through.

"Hey Ururu! Looks like I was right about the bright day! Mark my words, we'll have plenty of need for these herbs."

He heard her laugh as she came over the hill. Suddenly her feet stopped, her eyes going wide and horror filled. Urahara frowned as Ururu sucked in her breath and screamed loudly enough to wake the dead. He ran forward, intent on soothing the child. As he moved he heard the whistle as an arrow missed him by a hair's breath. Urahara lunged forward, knocking the terrified child over but making sure to cushion her fall as he did. Another arrow narrowly missed them, embedding itself in the earth near their bodies. He pressed Ururu's head to his chest, trying to muffle the sound of her screams as he struggled to his feet and took off running. He did not want to expose himself as a Wizard if he could help it and certainly not this close to the village. Fortunately the narrow path led to a stream that was far enough away that he could hurt whoever was perusing them.

"Hold tight, Ururu," he said as he ran a zig zag path.

Their peruser was a very good hunter. By the time he reached the water his cloths were torn and he was going to have three nice scars on his arm. He could not feel the injuries, just a rather sleepy feeling which meant the arrows were at the very least designed to make him drugged. Thankfully his body had enough natural resistance to poison thanks to the magic that he could withstand it and not be crippled by it. At least, not for a little while longer than was natural. Finally he heard the trickle of the water. They were almost at the lake, far enough that he could use his magic. He did not want to kill the person, he needed to find out who would dare attack him and why. No-one would attack him unless they knew who he was. Reaching the water he set Ururu down as he heard an arrow whistle towards him.

"Enough!" he roared throwing out a hand. The weapon stopped a breath from his extended palm, hovering motionless mid-flight, "show your path!"

As if someone had drawn a gold thread from arrow to bow, the line shimmered connecting the projectile and the bow it had been fired from. He saw his peruser, mounted on a horse, form and sex concealed by a heavy cloak. A pair of leather gloved hands grasped the bow that had almost been the death of him. There was nothing to show where they were from but their aim was far too good and their horse and weapons far too high quality for them to just be some mercenary for hire. Urahara snatched the arrow from mid air, snapping it across his knee and throwing it aside. The person attacking him stared at him for a moment longer before they turned and took off, their horse cutting a path through the woods. Urahara watched them go. Ururu's small hands gripped him desperately, she was obviously terrified. Her parents had died by arrows, it made sense.

Anger surged through him. He bent down, grabbing a stone from the bank of the river. Leveling his arm he drew his wrist back and snapped it forward, putting power behind his already good aim. The stone flew through the air, slamming into the back of his attacker's skull, right near their spine. Their body snapped with the force of the blow. It did not kill them, it simply knocked them unconscious. They slumped forward as the horse stopped immediately thanks to the stone that touched its flanks. Urahara motioned forward. The horse turned and walked towards him, its head lowered in submission. The rider was slumped forward, unconscious and deep in a dreamless sleep thanks to the spell. Urahara reached forward and pulled back their hood.

Purple hair, aristocratic features--feminine features. The leather armor they wore was equally well made, made by someone only a Princess could afford. Urahara looked at Ururu who seemed to have calmed a bit now that arrows weren't flying and their peruser had been subdued.

"What did I tell you about that bright day?" he asked as the sun came out fully, "bright sun means big trouble."


	4. Chapter 4

There was no palace in Hitotsu, the Capital of Soul Society.

Rather, the entire Capital was dominated by a castle designed to withstand any siege that could be thrown at it. oh it could host a party as well as any other structure and many gatherings had taken place there but so had many battles. The structure was imposing, bright stone made it difficult to see what parts of the walls could be used to hide archers or weapons. The sheer size of the place was baffling to those who looked upon it for the first time, coupled with the assured temporary blindness if they stared upon it for too long. Leading to the palace was a winding road, one that could easily be defended against. Dug around the palace was a moat, the drawbridge lowered in the current time of peace, however fleeting that peace might be.

The hooves of her steed pounded the road as Soifon, Duchess of the Nijiteki province and Head of the House of Fon, raced towards her destination. She kept her eyes averted against the glaring splendor of the castle and made sure her reins were tight enough that her horse kept his head lowered enough not to be blinded as well. She had made that mistake once a very long time ago and was not eager to repeat the embarrassment of showing up at the castle with dirt and bruises on her backside. She galloped towards the castle, slowing only enough to push her hood back from her face and let the guards get a good look at her. They waved her in with a nod and she moved gratefully into the shade. Immediately a well dressed man came hurrying forward.

"Your Grace," he said, sweeping into a low bow as she slid off her mount, "thank you for responding to our urgent summons."

"I am the King's to command," she said as a man took the reins of her horse to lead him into the stables.

She had taken nothing when she received the urgent summons from the King. Her priority was to get to the palace as quickly as she could. Her own homeland was not far from Hitotsu and she had been navigating the terrain of Futatsu, the province that separated them since she was very young. Though significantly larger than Nijiteki, the terrain was far easier to navigate than the area that surrounded her home. The man led her into the interior of the castle moving through the lesser hallways and audience chambers into one of the larger ones. Soifon was glad that it was not the throne room. She hated going into that place. Thankfully the King was not one to use it without need.

The man pushed open the doors and Soifon stepped inside.

Only the King was there. King Yamamoto, wise and old and still completely capable of destroying anyone foolish enough to even think about defying him--not that Soifon would dare to think about such a thing. Her loyalty to the King and to the Kingdom of Soul Society was unquestionable and unwavering. The moment she was inside the room she walked over to the King, drawing her sword. She dropped to a low bow, her knee pressing into the ground as she held her sword horizontally in front of her, a show of fidelity to the King. Her sword, her life, everything was his to command.

"Your Majesty," she said in way of a greeting.

"Rise, your Grace," he ordered. Soifon obeyed with smooth grace, slipping her blade back into its sheath, "thank you for replying to my summons with such speed."

"You made it clear the need for me was urgent," she told him.

"The Princes Shihon's guards have returned without her. They claim she decided to go after the Wizard alone."

Soifon's eyes widened before narrowing. Not only had she disobeyed a direct order from the King but she had gone after the Wizard alone. She was confident in Yoruichi Shihon's abilities but this was the Wizard, there was no telling what he could do to her. Worse, he could manage to find out what they were up to and decide to be sympathetic to Las Noches. She did not think there was a person alive who would be stupid enough to be sympathetic to Las Noches but, then again, she had long since learned that if there was one thing people were good at, it was falling prey to their emotions.

"The Ambassador has also sent word that the Princess and her Guard managed to escape with a handful of others. They've probably scattered."

Soifon waited to hear who she was going to go after.

"Captain Schiffer is many things but he is not a fool--no matter how much it would help our plans," he looked at her, "he will not let the Princess out of his sight. They _will_ go to the Wizard. Perhaps not right away, but eventually they will seek out his help."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but what use could the Wizard possibly be to the Princess? She is not of any Royal lineage, she cannot be name the Ruler of Las Noches."

"She might not have the power of that line," he said, "but we cannot deny that the Princess has some kind of power. Though now it is not a threat to us, if she finds the Wizard and he names her the Ruler--or worse he trains her, then we will most likely have to fight another War."

"What would you ask of me?" Soifon asked.

"Though I believe in the Princess Shihon's abilities, I will not risk all we have worked for, fought for bled and died for on one woman's pride," he turned to Sofion, "find the Wizard and the Princess, bring them back here."

"And if I find any survivors from Las Noches?"

"Act as you see fit, but do nothing to give away our involvement past Ambassador Kuchiki. We cannot compromise the alliance, not yet. If the person has any idea where the Princess might be you should follow them. If we intercept the Princess before she reaches the Wizard, that is all the better."

"As you wish, my King," she said bowing without unsheathing her sword.

He dismissed her. She turned and walked out of the throne room. She did not like having to work with other people. People tended to be unreliable. But orders were orders and she had learned to trust Yamamoto's judgement. She made it to the courtyard which was beginning to fill up with people. She did not spare them a glance as she pulled herself onto her mount and began to walk towards the drawbridge The sound of approaching hoofbeats made her halt her mount and move to the side as the new horse came galloping in.

A quick tug on the reins and the horse stopped dead in its tracks. A lesser rider would have been thrown. The steed was pale and despite the obvious hard ride its coat glistened. She could see the quality of the tack with her naked eye. There was only one person who would ride such a magnificent creature and manage to keep it clean. Sure enough he was there, dressed as exquisite as his mount. His dark eyes surveyed the castle with disdain that came only from having a far more exquisite palace of his own. Though not a blood relative of the King his family was one of the four oldest in the land. With lack of an heir, there were rumors beginning that if the throne was to go to one of them, he would be the choice.

Prince Byakuya, Head of the House of Kuchiki and Duke of Roku.

His eyes landed on hers. She inclined her head in greeting out of respect for his station and higher title. His eyes gave nothing away as he turned his horse to walk over to hers.

"Riding out before the war council, Duchess?" he questioned.

"I have urgent business on the King's orders," she said her voice cool, "and no patience for Councils."

"Well then, it seems all works out for the best," he said.

"So it would seem. Enjoy your council, Your Highness," she said snapping the reins of her horse as she dug her heels in.

Her horse snorted and took off, racing out of the palace gates. She needed to contain the mess before anyone else found out.

**

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**

With a whinny of protest, the ebony stallion ceased to continue to move at the thundering pace he had been. His hooves pawed the ground as he pranced the border of the woods, his teeth moving against the bit in his mouth. Grimmjow tightened his gloved hands against the rein, fighting to stay in the saddle as his horse skirted the woods, tossing his head. Reaching out he pressed a hand to the damp flesh of his horse, his eyes looking at the foreboding forrest in front of him. No wonder his horse was scared of that.

"Shh," Grimmjow soothed looking around, his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness.

When the attack had commenced he had already been in the courtyard ready to head back to Mashumaro. The next thing he knew the entire place was up in flames and he was being shoved onto a horse. His fingers tightened angrily on the reins. He was practically useless in fights since the war. As the healers told him regularly, the fact he was standing and breathing was a miracle unto itself. Short fights he could get in without any ill effects but long battles? Long battles and he was as good as dead once again. He didn't even have a sword--not that he would be allowed to bring it into the party hall when he was a guest. He looked down at his formal apparel with a grimace of distaste. His appearance was far too distinctive as it was. There was nothing he could do about his bright blue hair.

Grimmjow pressed his heels into the sides of his horse, turning him towards the stream he faintly heard. he was sure he could do with a rest and something to drink. Functioning under the thought he had pursuers or, at the very least, people would be watching his home, Grimmjow had turned his mount towards Kishoubu. Oh there were people there who would probably like to kill or kidnap him but frankly if they knew of the attack they knew that doing such would be stupid. Part of the alliance between the King and the Pirate King was that Mashumaro had to be willing to trade with them. His province was one of the most agricultural and game rich territories. The Pirate King might have had more rubies than the King but he needed grain and food besides fish. Grimmjow provided that in return for a large amount of gold and assorted treasure. If he made it to the King without being seen, Grimmjow could figure out what the hell was going on.

Dismounting his horse Grimmjow pressed a hand to his chest as the world wavered in his eyes. He had pushed himself harder than he thought if he was loosing focus. He forced his eyes open and pushed himself away from the horse's neck, walking to the stream. The horse followed, bending down to take a long drink of the water. Grimmjow followed suite, the water wonderfully cool in his dry, hot mouth. Sitting back on his heels he ran his hand through his hair, wishing that it was less distinctive. There weren't many people with violent blue hair, even fewer who would be dressed like he was at the moment or riding a horse of the quality his was. It was like he had a big sign over his head saying 'Nobility of Las Noches: kidnap or kill me.' At least he didn't have any information as to what Ulquiorra could possibly be up to.

The horse turned and batted his head with its nose. Grimmjow looked over at the horse who looked down at him with a look that seemed to tell him his horse knew exactly what kind of trouble he was in. He should, his sire was the horse that carried Grimmjow's sorry ass off the battlefield.

"I'm fine Pantera," he muttered reaching up to scratch his nose. Pantera lipped his hand affectionately, though there was no treat concealed in his palm, "when we get back I'll stuff you full of carrots," he promised standing up.

He pushed himself to his feet with a groan. He felt about ninety. Fucking Prince Ichigo Kurosaki and his stupid sword. Savagely half of him was glad he wasn't going to have to call the bastard 'King' anytime soon. Hell he'd spend his last sapphire to get hell out of Las Noches if he wasn't sure that the people from Kishoubu would hunt his ass down. The last thing he needed was more enemies in the world. He laid a hand on the horse before pulling himself into the saddle. Immediately the world laced with pain filled stars. One of his hands locked around his side as he bit back a groan, his hands tightening on the leather of the saddle as he cursed the weakness through the agony. After a handful of harsh breaths his eyes began to clear. He drew his hand away and forced it to grip the reins, turning the horse towards the path. Pantera moved backwards against his master's wishes, seeming to sense the fact that riding was not something Grimmjow needed to be doing at the moment.

Grimmjow stubbornly kicked the horse into movement. Finally Pantera moved, walking back to the path. Grimmjow planned to stay on the path for as long as he could before he had to go to the main road to approach Kishoubu. Pantera snorted and tossed his head, obviously agitated at something. Grimmjow frowned and tightened his hands on the reins, his eyes scanning as he moved as much as his throbbing body would allow him to. He saw nothing in the darkness. Pantera began to paw the ground. Though he was an excellent horseman Grimmjow doubted he would be able to stay on if he began to buck or rear. He pressed a hand to the horse.

"Shhh," he soothed, his eyes scanning for whatever was agitating the horse, "there's nothing to be scared of you big baby."

The horse pawed the ground and tossed his head furiously. Grimmjow frowned and did some quick calculations before he swore. From his rough mental map, he was in Eastern Suzuran. The province had been the site of an epic war between two clans that had never been won. Eventually they had just ran out of people to throw at each other's blades. The two men that were left were the best fighters and though they kept fighting, neither could win. Legend claimed the two men had painted a line with the blood they had spilt, forever dividing Suzuran into two provinces: East and West. He happened to be in the half where the game and agriculture was while the other half was where all the trading took place. It was a twist of fate that both provinces happened to be completely co-dependant.

Grimmjow scanned the woods, praying that he would be able to see if these were Suzurans, East or West, or if they were enemies.

"I mean you no harm," he said, "but my horse happens to be very agitated and I'm injured as it is," he looked around, hating himself for praying that they would show themselves, "I am Grimmjow, the Duke of Mashumaro," he said, risking everything in the hopes that if they were enemies they would have captured or killed him already.

A horse came out of the woods, its rider clearly not thinking it was necessary to waste words talking to him. He recognized her instantly and realized exactly who she was. She wore lightweight leather armor favored by riders who required maximum speed and protection. Hers was studded on weak points and down the forearms and shins with darkened spikes that would probably hurt if she attacked him. Not as much as the sword, the pommel of which he could see just over her right shoulder. The dark leather of her armor zipped past her neck to cover the lower half of her jaw. When she pulled the tight hood up or covered her head with her cloak, it would be impossible to see her appearance past the fact she was a woman. Then again, he didn't think that there was a person alive who would be able to miss that--no matter what she wore.

Her gloved had reached up and tugged the leather that covered her mouth and nose down. As if the body wasn't bad enough, her features were equally capable of stopping a man's heart. At the moment they were set in a tight line that spoke of disgust at the fact she had to show himself to him. Well interacting with her, though visually stimulating, was somewhat less than pleasant in all other aspects.

"Duchess Halibel," he said with a smile, "we missed you at the party tonight."

"Until the two of them are married I see no reason to celebrate. Intentions have little use in the world," her eyes assessed him, "from the looks of it there is little to celebrate."

"Or maybe there's a lot and you just missed the most wild party ever," he said with a grin before his ribs seared and he pressed a hand to his chest, trying not to double over.

"I'm sure," Halibel muttered walking her horse over to his, "no sense in you dying and me having to deal with Mashumaro," she said, "try to stay conscious long enough to return to the Manor."

She led him into the woods.

Grimmjow thought to protest but the truth was that he was probably going to pass out in the relatively near future.

And there were far worse places he could think about passing out in--like the woods he was in right now. Not the talking type, Halibel led him along a hidden path in the woods. Abruptly they found themselves in a clearing. Mostly surrounded by woods except for a far more obvious path was the Manor Halibel called home. It was large and stately, made of dark stone that was designed to withstand weather, time and anything else that could be thrown at it. A similar one lay in Western Suzuran, another testament to a war that people were still largely bitter about. Halibel led him to the stable and dismounted her steed. Grimmjow did the same, trying not to double over. With smooth movements Halibel pulled her gloves off and walked into the warm confines of the Manor.

"Halib--Grimmjow!"

Grimmjow stared. Standing there dressed in similar lightweight armor was the Duchess of Wetern Suzuran, Neliel Tu Oderschvank. The two Duchesses were as different as could be. With her elaborate name and waist length blue-green hair, Nel's appearance was as shocking and distinctive as his own--something she enjoyed very much. Despite obviously being dressed for the possibility of a fight, her hair was unbound and fell free to her waist. She quickly crossed the room, her booted feet echoing on the ground as she hurried to where he was. Her eyes performed the same assessment of him that Halibel's had. There was no-one, with the exception of the Princess, in Las Noches who had the privilege of not being a warrior. All of them had seen and fought in many battles, the instinct of doing such never really went away.

"You look terrible! What happened?!" Nel demanded anxiously, her emotional face a far cry from Halibel's smooth features.

"I believe that His Grace does not have many more answers in him," Halibel said, her voice cool.

"We need a healer," she said.

"Its an old injury," Grimmjow said with a tight smile, "nothing to be done unless you've got a miracle worker there."

"We do," Halibel said.

He looked over at her.

"All meetings between Eastern and Southern Suzuran have to be witnessed by a Harusaki," she looked over at the doors, "she's through here. She can probably help you."

Grimmjow swallowed thickly. If there was one thing he still feared, same as when he was a child, it was the Harusaki. They were an order of Priestesses. No-one knew exactly what they were capable of and no-one was stupid enough to try and pry the secrets from their lips. They lived in all three of the Kingdoms and other places as well. Boundaries and wars did not seem to apply to them, neither did rules. He had sought there help when he was first injured, all the kingdoms had in the War, but they had refused them all. They refused to help kill people for glory or land or anything they deemed meaningless. Of course when they were provoked they had no problem with laying waste to a good third of the army, as they had proven when the King of Soul Society was stupid enough to try and enlist their aide.

It was rare to see them but if tradition demanded their presence one of them would be there.

Sure enough as they walked into another room one was standing there, dressed completely in white to denote her station. Her grey eyes turned and assessed them calmly. Chocolate brown hair spilled, unbound, down her shoulders. Slipped into the locks, by her ears, were a pair of flower hairpins. She turned and walked over to them, her hands folded neatly at her sides.

"Harusaki," Halibel addressed her by her title rather than her name, "this man requires healing."

"This man is not worthy of healing such as mine," she said turning away, "put him to bed."

Nel opened her mouth but Halibel cut her off.

"As you see fit," she said cutting in, her teal eyes flashing in warning.

Grimmjow wasn't surprised.

The Harusaki had never thought he was worthy of healing, he didn't think anything had changed since the last time they denied him.

"Show the Duke to the guest room," Halibel said to one of the servants, "make sure he is ready to continue on his journey by sunrise," she looked a Nel, "I believe that we will learn about this situation from someone who will not pass out in the middle of the tale."

The Harusaki watched him go, wondering if there would ever be a day when Grimmjow would be worthy.

* * *

**Okay so Ulquihime will be in the next chapter! **

**So people have asked about the names. All of the Las Noches provinces are named after translations of flowers and Soul Society is done after numbers. Though Byakuya and Yoruichi are referred to by Prince and Princess because of their rank but they aren't directly in line for the King's throne.**

**R&R please! It makes me write faster!**


	5. Chapter 5

Gin ran a hand across the horses flanks. These two were good horses, not the quality of the Royal stables but good none the less. The pair of palominos were common enough traveling horses. The tack was good quality as well. Matsumoto had been good in fixing the saddle bags with food, money and a change of cloths. All Gin could hope for was that the two of them would look common enough for them to pass as regular folk, though he doubted that Ulquiorra could be mistaken for anything but a solider, no more than Orihime could pass for something other than a Princess.

Sure enough, Ulquiorra was the first out. Gin felt himself smile. Matsumoto was very sharp witted. Ulquiorra was dressed in a loose cotton shirt, a dark leather vest laced up his chest. Tight, dark pants encased his lower half tucked into his guard issue boots which had been smeared with something to darken them. Instead of wearing a cloak as most did, he wore a long leather riding coat Gin knew had once belonged to him when he posed as a Messenger on a mission. Dark leather gloves tipped in iron encased his fingers, their iron reinforcements ensuring a level of protection for the wearer's hands. Messengers were employed by the King to deliver messages or objects or such. Ulquiorra was educated enough to play the part, and awkward enough that no-one would question him.

"Don't you look unimpressive," Gin said surveying Ulquiorra's appearance. He picked at one of the stitches on the cuff, "stop looking so confused," he said with a smirk, "messengers are supposed to be honored and snobby. You can read."

"Of course I can read," Ulquiorra said blankly, as though it was obvious.

"Maybe you should let the Princess be the one who talks," Gin suggested, "isn't that right, Princess?"

Ulquiorra turned around at the merry laughter. Orihime stood there dressed in the female uniform of the Messenger. Her pants were snug and tucked into dark leather boots that were soft with age and use. Her shirt was creme colored and longer than his, falling to her upper thigh. Breaking the creme was a vest of the same dark leather. She wore a riding coat similar to his that Matsumoto had used on the same mission. Her sunset hair had been braided tightly back and coiled at the base of her skull. In one hand she held a hat that she quickly slipped over her head, tucking her bun into the confines of the dark leather. Matsumoto stood behind her with a bright smile on her lips.

"Don't you two just make the cutest messengers," she said with a smile, "now you have to do the buttons of your coats up," she ordered as they quickly obeyed, "there."

"My sword," he said.

"Messengers aren't armed except for the two short daggers," she said nodding to the small blades that were slipped into special holsters inside their boots, "no swords."

"No sword?" he questioned.

"Nope," Matsumoto said, "you can use daggers right?" he asked.

"Of course," Ulquiorra said, "but I prefer a sword," he said, "short blades had their drawbacks."

"_All_ weapons have their drawbacks," Gin said, "every advantage has a disadvantage. You should be able to fight with those"

"We'll keep your sword safe," Matsumoto said with a smile, "you just worry about keeping that Princess of yours safe," she looked over at Orihime, "now we're going to need to give you another name."

"Sora," Orihime said instantly.

"Have a safe journey," Gin said, "when you get to Kishobu, don't tell them you had anything to do with us."

"Its probably for the best if you don't admit you know Gin," Matsumoto said with an affectionate grin, "no matter how good your swordplay is."

"We'll keep that in mind," Orihime said brightly, "thank you both so much or everything. When we come back you must meet us at the palace."

The two promised they would before Ulquiorra and Orihime mounted their horses and took off towards the main road. Orihime was a good horseback rider, unlike many of the women that Ulquiorra had the unfortunate of having to deal with. It was no surprise that horses, like most living beings, liked Orihime Inoue. Within moments she looked as at ease on the horse as if she had known the creature singe it was a foal. Ulquiorra gave the appearance of it as well but that was to be expected. He had ridden one horse into battle and another out of it. The two horses went in a smooth, fast gait as they headed for the main road. Once they got it was only two days hard ride to get to Kishobu and hopefully to try and figure out what their next move would be.

All the provinces of Las Noches met in the center, right at the Capital. However from there they spread outwards, like petals of a flower. There were six major provinces, each with villages inside them. Kishobu happened to be far from the Capital though, a country onto itself. The Capital was far inland to help prevent attacks by sea. They had been too foolish to consider one by land, one that would have been so easily prevented. Ulquiorra felt his gloved fingers tighten in the confines of the reins. Whether they had known or not his duty was to keep the Princess Orihime Inoue alive. He would not be able to fight a war, not now. He glanced over at his charge. Orihime seemed as fine as she had been the night before. She was an emotional person. It seemed impossible that she was taking this so lightly.

"I'm fine Ulquiorra," she said with a smile, "if you keep looking over at me like that people are going to get suspicious."

"My apologies," he said quickly, feeling heat creep up his cheeks.

Orihime felt her own heat up in response. Ulquiorra had always been such a striking presence in her life since she had found him on the battlefield all those days ago. It was his hand she had clasped when she left the battlefield, when she went to the palace, even when she met the King for the first time. The poor solider had tried to pull his hand free but she had all but clung to his arm and refused to let him out of her sight. The King, looking to award one of his best soldiers, had decided to make him the Captain of the Guard, in charge of the palace and his primary duty was the continued safety of the heir, the King's adopted daughter Orihime.

To say he had been less than pleased with the situation was a massive, monumental understatement.

Though she had saved his life she was a Princess and he was a warrior. It was in his nature to fight, not to nurture, especially not a girl such as her. When she refused to eat he was the one who stood over her to make sure she did. When she could not sleep he sat and red her stories. She had an army of nannies and such but for some reason the company of other females was something she could not stand. She had attached herself to him, refusing to respond to anyone else. As time went on she hadn't been beside him all the time but she still felt far more comfortable with him than she felt with anyone else in the palace--even if people sometimes thought of him as cold. She had thought of him as cold once as well but that had changed when she learned to read him.

"Have you ever been to Kishobu?" she asked him looking over at him.

"I have not," he said, "but the Duke of Jeagerjaques has been."

"Really?"

"Yes, he managed to infuriate the Pirate King. If anything that will ensure his safety. The Pirate King won't let anyone else kill him but him," Orihime smiled at that. She could imagine Grimmjow's temper getting him in a lot of trouble with--well with anyone, "we have enough gold to loosen the tongues of those who know what is going on."

"Well that's good," she said with a smile, even though he didn't think she had bought anything in her entire life with money.

They had undergone longer periods of separation. He sometimes traveled across other provinces to scout security concerns or settle disputes, leaving trusted people in charge. Though he did not admit it every time he got back she always seemed more beautiful than when he had left. She would always smile brightly to his stoic greeting, as if she could see something in him that no-one else could. He was not sure he liked the unpredictable emotions that swelled through him at the thought that he was so easily read--and by a member of the nobility no less.

"Ulquiorra?" he glanced at her, "tell me about the Pirate King."

"I have met him," Ulquiorra said, feeling the headache his brief meeting with the man had brought on, "his blade is responsible for a few of the scars on the Duke and far more serious blows to his ego," he considered his words, "the King is said to have a grin wider than anyones and a ring of silver embedded in his tongue."

"Really? I've heard about piercing but his _tongue_," she tried not to rub the small holes in her earlobes, "that must hurt."

"I'm sure it did," he agreed, "the King's inner circle is full of people who have strange tattoos and piercing."

"So he's got a court like ours?"

Ulquiorra looked over at her, unsure how exactly to tell her that the Pirate King's Court was _anything_ but like theirs. It was full of pirates and thieves, much like the King himself. Whatever code of honor they lived by, it clearly did not extend to the rest of the world. Rumor had it that they came from all different Kingdoms but under the rule of the Pirate King they were one thing and that was Kishobu. Perhaps there had been challengers to the throne but if rebellion had occurred it had been largely unsuccessful. The last he heard the King was still on the throne, his Court still full of the original members. It was unsurprising considering the man had single handedly started a new Kingdom that none were foolish enough to challenge with any sort of seriousness. Even the infamous Prince Kurosaki had been sent back with shame on his cheeks and a few new scars to show off around his Kingdom.

That, if nothing else, made the King tolerable in Ulquiorra's eyes.

"His Court is a bit different," Ulquiorra said finally, "it take place in a somewhat questionable establishment."

"Oh," Orihime said, her cheeks staining pink, "so the King likes to drink."

Ulquiorra looked over at her. The Pirate King was notorious for his love of all things that were frowned upon by anyone with a decent heart in their chest. Fighting, liquor, love--it was all for sale in Kishobu and the King could, and would, buy it all. Stories about him ranged from completely outlandish to mildly probable. It was an old trick, one Ulquiorra knew well, turning men into legends and life into a fairy tale. The only problem was that at the root of that there was a scribe with a plume, spinning the tale. Though he was clearly a bad man and a good scribe, Ulquiorra could not help but be intrigued by the infamous Pirate King. He had always enjoyed a good story.

"The King enjoys life in itself," he said, "much to the dislike of his latest 'love'," Orihime smiled, "he will most likely desire to speak to you whether he knows of your identity as the Princess or not."

"Why'd he do that?" she asked, the innocence in her eyes both endearing and frustrating.

"Because you are beautiful," Ulquiorra said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Orihime's eyes widened as he realized his slip up. Her cheeks turned red and it was only by some miracle that his own remained pale. They both kept their eyes glued to the road ahead.

It was a few hours before they spoke again.

* * *

The smell of bacon poked through Yoruichi's slumber.

Still asleep she frowned deeply. Cooking did not take place in the bedroom, it took place downstairs in the kitchen. But then again, her bed was much bigger and not so soft, made with silk and not cotton. Yoruichi opened her eyes carefully and slowly. Instead of the blue velvet that encased her bed, she was met with the sight of a dark orange sheet strung between the two walls on either side of the bed. Yoruichi pushed herself up, wincing as her wrist buckled under the weight. She gasped and sat up fully, looking around. She was on a bed made up with a multitude of brightly colored mismatched blankets. She was not in her armor either. Rather she was in an oversized white cotton shirt, a _mans_ shirt.

Yoruichi slipped a hand through the gap in the curtains, just enough to peek out of the folds in the curtain. Directly outside the bed was a large room. Herbs hung in bunches from the rafters of the ceiling, others were stuck in jars on the shelves that seemed to run all around the room. The shelves were also home to a bunch of brightly colored nick knacks that seemed to have no rhyme or reason or purpose in the place. Her eyes went over to the fire. A man was standing over it, one hand gripping the long handle of a flat pan that he was holding over the fire. From his head and build she could see he was fairly young. Frowning she pushed herself up from the bed. Her head ached terribly, like someone had stuck something into the back of her head near her spine.

What in the name of all that was sacred was she doing _here_?

"I've got the eggs Urahara!" a black haired girl bounded in, a basket full of white eggs slung over her arm.

"Good job Ururu," he said taking them and beginning to crack them into the pan along with the bacon, "these should be ready soon. You wanna go see if our guest is up?"

"Okay!"

Yoruichi quickly lowered herself onto the bed and shut her eyes, regulating her breathing. By the time Ururu parted the curtains she looked like she was sound asleep. Ururu looked down at the woman and then back at Urahara.

"She's still asleep!" she called.

"Well you'd better wake her up," Urahara called, "nothing's worse than a cold breakfast."

Ururu poked at Yoruichi's shoulder, her fingertips insistent against the cotton covered let her eyes seem fogged and confused as she opened them. Ururu blinked down at her before turning to Urahara.

"She's up, Urahara," she said.

"Good job Ururu!" he said turning around with a flourish, the pan still smoking in his hand.

Yoruichi stared. He looked so _young_, probably her age or a year or two older. He was dressed in an identical cotton shirt and a pair of dark brown pants. He wore no boots or shoes with stockings as was fashionable with pants that ended just below the knee as his did. Instead his calves and feet were bare. His blond hair was messy and a bit too long, easily getting in his bright grey eyes. Everything from the bright spark of his eyes to the twist of his lips spoke of genuine warmth and happiness at life in general. Yoruichi felt hard pressed to hide her own sneer. Only idiots found joy so easily.

"Good morning my lovely assassin and may I say that no matter how many come after me, they will all pale in comparison to you."

"You!" she jumped to her feet, trying not to shudder at the cool draft that encircled her legs, "_you're_ the Wizard?" she gasped looking at the simple home, "but you're an idiot!"

"Now that's not very nice," Urahara said, "or very true considering _I_ did knock you out," he frowned and tapped his lip, "though the spell was supposed to make you forget why you were here."

"You knocked me out with a stone!" she said rubbing at the back of her head, "any idiot could have done that!"

"I knocked you out with a spelled stone, not anyone could've done that, especially not an idiot," he said crossing his arms, "though I'm honored the King of Soul Society is willing to send someone of your status after me."

"You didn't even get the spell right!" Yoruichi snapped, "I remember why I'm here."

"No," he said, "you remember you're not supposed to kill me," he set the pan back on the fire, "which is a good thing considering I'd hate to have such a hand in my own demise."

Yoruichi's eyes narrowed. Was this fool _teasing_ her? From the spark in his eyes and the curve of his lips he seemed to be enjoying what was going on despite the fact that she had been sent to kill him. She looked down at her loose shirt and realized that he had beaten her, knocked her unconscious, seen her naked and put her in his shirt. She looked up at his grey eyes and realized that even if he looked like an idiot and probably had a lot of idiot in him, the fact was that he had pulled off something that should not have been possible. She made a habit of humiliating and teasing the men around the Court of Soul Society. She could still make Byakuya Kuchiki livid when she really tried. But this man, this wizard, he was clearly different. She was going to have to play a bad hand of cards very well. To do that she needed to find out what he was playing with.

"Your armor is drying over there," he said motioning to where it was, her sword on top of it, "your horse seemed to have enough of you and drop you in the mud."

"I find that hard to believe," she said.

"Not if Urahara let him get a whiff of one of the herbs," Ururu whispered as she pulled plates down from a shelf where they rested next to a set of brass scales.

"You spooked my horse?" her eyes narrowed again, "did you spell him as well, Wizard?"

"No no no," he said scatching the back of his neck, "I just petted him and gave him some sugar," he transfered the food onto plates, "call me Urahara," he added, "and who do I have the honor of having defeated? Duche--"

Instantly the sword was in her hands and pointed at his nose. His grey eyes widened as he looked at her angry amber ones down the length of polished metal.

"Princess," she snapped drawing herself up, "Princess Yoruichi Shihon, Head of the House of Shihon and Duchess of the Province of Futatsu."

"Soul Society huh?" Urahara said, his eyes hardening, "your King's fine. What do you want with me?"

"That is not your concern," Yoruichi said stepping forward and turning the blade so the razor edge pressed against Urahara's throat, "you," she looked over at Ururu, "sit in that chair. I'll tie you up in a minuet," she looked back at the grey eyes a breath from her own, "as for yo--"

The foot that snapped towards her knees was unexpected but she brought her own up in a block, catching the appendage on her heel. Instantly he was out of the range of her sword but it was only a heartbeat before a blade was in his own hands, the metal glinting in the fire light. Yoruichi's eyes appraised the position of his feet and the curve of his wrist. This man, this Wizard, he had been trained in swordfighting--formally trained. Defeating him would hardly be easy but she had killed men who were considered masters. Whatever this man was, master was probably pushing it.

"Ururu," he said, his grey eyes not leaving her amber ones, "keep breakfast warm. This won't take too long."

Ururu looked doubtfully at Urahara and then at Yoruichi. They were in the exact same posture, one hand gripping their blades, the other extended behind them. Their feet were perpendicular to one another as well as they looked at each other across the fire. Quickly Ururu grabbed the plates of food as they continued to stand perfect and completely still. Yorucihi felt herself smile in a gesture of pure predatory dominance. Urahara on the other hand _grinned_ as though this was pleasurable for him. The two lunged forward at the exact same time, swords clashing as vibrations raced up their arms. Their footwork, blades--everything was perfect as they met quickly and jumped apart.

"You've been trained," she said reassuming the position.

"Well the old man was much older than me," he said, smile not slipping as they lunged and met again.

The foot that hooked behind his knee and ripped the balance off him was completely unexpected. He toppled backwards, his beautiful, deadly assassin going with him. She landed on top of him, her legs straddling his body as her sword pressed to his throat, her hands pinning his sword wrist high over his head. His other wrist was far too fast as his fingers streaked forward and pressed to her forehead. Words flew over his lips as Yoruichi felt power slip through her, twisting and changing like a living thing. The world sharpened and _grew_ as it changed to her eyes. The wrist she had been holding seemed impossibly far away as the shirt she had been wearing spread out like a stain on the giant who she sat on. His hands reached out and plucked something on the back of her neck, holding her up. She opened her mouth to shout but all that came out was a _hiss_.

He turned her into a cat.

"Ururu," Urahara said turning to her, "would you go get some milk for our guest?" he looked over at Yoruichi who seemed too stunned to figure out he left her the ability to talk. He'd tell her later. Soon Ururu returned with milk and put it in front of Yorucihi before they both sat with their eggs an bacon, "lets eat!"

"Urahara I think its gonna be cloudy today," Ururu said with a smile.

"Good," he looked over at the cat who _glared_ at him, "less trouble that way."

* * *

**Uh oh, maybe Yoruichi shouldn't underestimate him. WHy is she acting differently? Well she didn't meet Urahara. I imagine he had an effect on her considering how the other person of her rank, Byakuya, acts. He's gonna have an effect on her but right now she's a bit haughty and he's a bit cocky but that'll change. **

**R&R please!**


	6. Chapter 6

Orihime sighed and shifted against the cotton sheets of the narrow bed of the inn. She and Ulquiorra had spent the night there on their way to Kishobu. Ulquiorra would have kept going through the night but he wanted to keep Orihime safe and traveling the road at night with a beautiful woman no matter the occupation was anything but safe. They had gotten a single room--less questions that way and Messengers did not have the salary of Guards or Princessess. She had tried to let him share the bed but he had refused, going to sleep on the floor as if it was something he did every day. She had woken up and covered him with the blanket as a compromise but considering how warm she was he had discovered and replaced it over her. Slowly Orihime let her eyes open, just enough so she could see the room.

He was washing his face with the water jug and bowl that had been put out. Careful to hold herself still, Oriihime let her eyes move over his torso. The bandages that Gin had wrapped were gone, the cut against his ribs was still dark and fresh. Two narrow, faded lines carved a path down his shoulder blades as if he had, at one time, had wings. A thin line encircled his upper left arm as well. Though she could not see it she knew that right over his sternum was a small line, deceptive in length and deadliness. That was where the poison had been, where the strike that had almost killed him was. It was right near his heart, the first place she had touched his chest, her hand laying on his heart as she pushed the flower into the wound. He stood up, the muscles in his back flexing with the movement as he ran the towel over his face and turned around. She quickly shut her eyes but he knew that she was awake.

She heard the rustle of cotton as he pulled the shirt over his head. There was another sound as he put on the vest, doing up the laces.

"Your Highness, I'm going to go and check on the horses," he said walking out of the room.

Orihime opened her eyes fully as the door closed. Carefully she pushed herself up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She sat up with a yawn, stretching her arms up towards the ceiling. She stood up and walked over to her pile of cloths, her heart aching. Ulquiorra never called her by her name. Not after everything that had happened, not after all they had been through. She was always _always_ Your Highness or Princess or some title that everyone called her by. She knew propriety demanded it but now that he did not go on missions so much, they spent enough time in each other's company that she called him Ulquiorra instead of Captain Schiffer. But she felt as though she would always be a title to him. A title, an ideal, a duty.

Never a woman.

Orihime felt heat in her cheeks. It was not as though she was blind. while she was rather enamored of the Prince, she would have been very stupid not to see that Ulquiorra was an attractive man. Especially his eyes. She had thought they were cold and closed off but the truth was that his eyes were cool and steady, they were un yielding and just as reliable as the man they belonged too. She imagined that the world could end and she would still be able to find him and his piercing emerald gaze as easily as ever. She had thought she hated Ulquiorra when he was first her guard. He was so cold, so strong--so frustrating in the fact that he obeyed no one but the King. Her tears had no more affect than her smiles on him. Then, as time went on she had learned to adjust to his staunch loyalty just as he had learned to deal with her rebelliousness nature. She was earth and life and light trapped in a glass sphere, he the one who held the keys.

He put up with all her odd moods, she reasoned as she pulled the shirt over her head. When she found out she was betrothed to someone for a _treaty_ she had burst into tears and refused to eat despite the constant stream of food from the kitchens. Ulquiorra had strode in, grabbed her by the arm and told her that she was far too old for such nonsense before setting a plate down in front of her and _ordering_ her to eat with the same voice he used on the guards under his command. No-one had ordered her, well, ever. He had stood over her at every meal or checked afterwards to make sure she ate, slept, did all the things she refused to do before. Her fingers did up her pants and the laces on her vest as she walked over to the small table to put her long hair up. A gentle rap on the door had her hands pausing in their work. Cautiously she walked over.

"Ulquiorra?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes," came the cool monotone that could only be Ulquiorra's voice.

Orihime opened the door as Ulquiorra stepped through. She quickly went back to figuring out her hair as he went about making sure they were all packed for the day. Finally he stood, satisfied as Orihime slipped her hat over her head and turned to him with a bright smile.

"So we'll be in Kishobu by nightfall?"

"Yes," he said with a curt nod, "though I do not like the idea of entering that place after nightfall it will be far less suspicious if we enter with the rest of the people they let into that place."

"Do they let a lot of people in?" she asked.

"It depends on their needs," he said, "and what ships have come into port."

"I think it will be wonderful to see pirates," she said with a smile. He gave no reply, "well I've never seen them and I think it will be wonderful," she said stubbornly.

"You will never forget your first time in Kishobu," Ulquiorra said, 'that is for certain."

Orihime beamed, not truly understanding that what he was saying was somewhat less than pleasant. Then again, to her eyes the bright candy colors of Kishobu would probably seem like dreams to her. She would probably think the whores were pretty ladies and the drugs were sweets. He glanced dutifully at their outfits. Messengers were a good disguise for this far but if they were going to get into Kishobu without raising red flags, they were going to need something else. Despite being a place for scoundrels and pirates, thieves and whores, they all could read and write. Sure they could be Messengers but the fact was that it was impossible that there would be two, looking like them at the same time there. Not without raising some kind of questions. Assassins had gone in Kishobu dressed as Messengers to get to the King. Pretty women, however, generally got a free ride. None were ever successfully in killing him of course.

"Come, Your Highness, we need to move quickly."

"Okay," she said with a smile as they walked downstairs.

Perhaps if he was not so intent on watching the people who stuck out he would not have missed the one person who blended in perfectly. He wore a snug riding coat that would let him blend in just as easily in the woods as it would out there--unless one noticed the ivory lining. His cloths also toed the line between formal and practical. Next to him was a quiver of arrows and a bow, along with a handful of smaller game he clearly intended to trade. There were other such patrons at the inn, so Ulquiorra gave no thought to the ebony haired stranger as he escorted the Princess out. The man watched them go, his eyes sharp as the door closed behind them. He glanced over his shoulder at the similarly dressed man who sat in the back of the tavern. Both their eyes moved to the woman with the short hair who ran a cloth over the table.

Finally the second man gave a curt nod and stood up, paying for the meal and slinging the bow across his chest. He turned and walked out back to the stables where he got on his horse and took off down the road. After a few moments the woman put down her rag and walked out as well, mounting her horse and taking a different route down the road. The first man looked at the innkeeper who swallowed and met his sharp gaze.

"I trust your silence has been paid for?" he questioned sharply.

"S-silence? About what?" the man asked, scratching the back of his neck.

The man nodded his approval before he too paid and bent down, picking up his bow, arrow and game. He looked at the man before he walked to the door.

"Bless you," he did not turn around as the man murmured his words, voice low and steady, "you do the work of the Gods."

"No," he said, "just the work of the Harusaki."

He walked out. The innkeeper watched him go.

"Better one of them on the throne than that bastard Prince," he muttered turning back to his work.

**

* * *

**

Soifon relaxed into the gait of her horse. She had, annoyingly, slowed her breakneck pace to conserve her horses' energy. containment or no the fact was Yoruichi was with the Wizard. Soifon had to keep her eyes sharp and riding at breakneck speed was not ideal for that. She didn't even know what she was looking for. If there was one thing that Soifon truly loathed it was the unknown. And right now she was stuck riding through it searching for more of it. The situation was anything but ideal. She was an _assassin_, not a spy. Why the King in all his infinite wisdom could not find it to send someone else to do this she would never know. There were others he could send, others who were far more inclined to deal with people than her.

Someone was singing.

Throughout the land there were a handful of highly offensive drinking songs that people liked to belt out in bars. She had commanded enough armies to know the soldiers liked to belt them out after victories or when they were drunk--or both. Usually victory and intoxication seemed to go hand in hand when it came to the men and women who she commanded. This particular tune was a very rowdy one, one that had probably originated, as the rowdy ones tended to do, in Kishobu. This was the purest version of the tune. As she got closer she heard the lyrics she recognized without the variations that liquor tended to impart on the tongue. The good ship's name was Venus, the Captain's daughter was Charlotte, still a harlot and doing things with eels Soifon was pretty sure was illegal and morally wrong--even by Kishobu standards.

Soifon maintained her pace as she crested the hill and discovered her inadvertent serenader. He was at the base of a tree, a massive black horse tethered nearby. He was dressed in well worn cloths that had probably, at one time, been formal wear. From the style it was clear this man was from Las Noches. Soifon's brows kitted together. He must be one of the survivors from the palace. His cloths could have been formal and new as early as last night. She looked at the two saddlebags that were clearly not the same make as his tack. They were full, he had probably stopped for help somewhere. Soifon knew she was in Suzuran, East or West she wasn't sure. The only question was whether she was going to have to kick blond ass or green--or blue as it seemed. The man was leaning against a tree, sweat stark on his brow as he worked a small knife over an apple, offering pieces of it to the horse who lipped his hand affectionately as he took them.

Soifon pulled her horse up before she pulled level with him. He glanced up at her and then back at the apple. From the way his chest moved irregularly he seemed to be singing to get his breathing under control. His voice was far more for rowdy halls than pretty parlors--but now it was weak, probably from whatever was making it hard to breath. Through the opening of his shirt she could see the beginning of a dark line on his chest. She angled her head, trying to see if she could see another scar on his chest. That line, it was dark enough and positioned just right that he should be _dead_. Soifon lowered her head. Not many men would have a scar like that, even fewer with blue hair. Soifon's eyes narrowed in recognition before she pressed her heals into the sides of her horse, urging him forward a few steps until she pulled level with her unlikely serenader. Her hand dropped to the pommel of her sword.

"If its fight you want," he said with a long, thready inhale, "its gonna be over soon."

"I don't want to fight you, Your Grace," she said.

"Liar," he bared his teeth in a predatory grin.

Soifon's orbs narrowed at the blatant accusation. She had spent too much time in the pampered Court, around people who never spoke the truth--only thinly veiled lies that propriety forbid her to call them out on. She had never been good at their games, but at the very least she knew to keep her mouth shut. With his wicked tongue and obvious charm she had a feeling that the Duke of Jeagerjaques was probably simultaneously adored and abhorred in Court. Well, she had dealt with more disgusting scum. At the very least he was honest, if not a bit too predictable.

"I don't fight men who can't even pick up their swords," she snapped.

His eyes widened before the grin followed suite. He raised his head and held the sliced apple in his palm, dagger in his other hand.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said rolling her eyes, "where are you going?"

Grimmjow looked at the woman sitting astride a horse that was built far more for speed than battle. He would have mistaken her for a rider from Soul Society or maybe Karakura. Her gear was obviously well made and well used, broken in to the point where it was visible despite the care that had been given to it. Her features were sharp but they were not delicate or aristocratic. Though her expression was hard, it was not enigmatic like most of the aristocracy was good at giving. Despite that she sat up on the horse as if someone had removed her spine and replaced it with an iron rod. If her default setting was 'stick up the ass bitch' then Grimmjow imagined he was in for an unpleasant interaction, even more unpleasant than dealing with the King and that was saying something.

"I'm going to Kishobu," he said shielding his eyes with his hand, "palace was attacked, people are dead, its the perfect time for whores and gambling," he smirked at the apple, "and getting drunk."

Soifon tried not to frown. The way he said it it was clear that even if he enjoyed those activities he clearly wanted to be fighting. She could see though that if he was having trouble breathing after riding, fighting was clearly out. Someone had robbed this man of his ability to fight in battle. If the rumors were true that person was Prince Kurosaki and this Duke had been a fool thinking he was going to be a hero in the battle. Well, it was little surprise considering where he came from. She was not foolish enough to think that Ulquiorra or Yoruichi would be there but a place like that, it would be useful for finding out what was going on and, most importantly, what the people _thought_ was going on. In fact, an anonymous woman hiring an equally anonymous assassin to take care of a problem would be even better. Outsourcing was not something she relished but still, if it was the most effective way to get the job done she was more than willing to forgo her usual style.

Soifon pressed her heels into the horses sides.

"If you're heading to Kishobu you won't get within ten yards before you're shot full of arrows," he called sticking a piece of apple in his mouth as her horse stopped, "even I can see you're from Soul Society," he smirked, "we might have an alliance but we still hate you."

"Then why warn me?" she questioned. He shrugged and it became clear.

He wanted information.

So did she.

If she could outwit him she could kill two birds with one stone. Find out what was going on, where the _Princess_ was and hire assassins to take her down while she brought back the Wizard. If they traveled together, well, it wasn't like he had anyone to tell that she couldn't evade. Besides, he needed her alive. In addition she didn't have the risk of him killing her. The man could barley stand, let alone fight anywhere near her level. She quickly weighed the pros and cons before she turned her horse around and walked back to where he was.

"Take me to Kishobu," she ordered.

"Why'd I do that?" he asked looking up at her.

"Because you want to know what I want to know," she said with a predatorial curve of her lips, "almost as badly as I want to know what you do."

Grimmjow grinned. Playing a game of wits with a beautiful, deadly woman? It had been a while since he had a challenge like that, even if--no _especially_ if she was from Soul Society. He fed the last of his apple to Pantera before pushing himself to his feet. She watched as he pulled himself into the saddle, pride making the movement look far more controlled, and a good deal less painful, than it actually was. As soon as he was in the saddle she moved her horse into a slow gait forward. Grimmjow felt his fingers tighten around the hilt of his dagger before he loosened his hand. No, he might be useless in a fight but he could get information from this woman. She turned her head, her eyes glinting in the sun.

Information and so much more.

**

* * *

**

One of the most notable advantages of Kishobu was the geography of the place. A wide, sloping half-moon of land created an ideal cove. Thank to the battles, a few earthquakes and a large amount of luck, what resulted was a cove that was wide and deep enough to house a good number of large ships. Barring the protective embrace of land was a wide gate, a gift as the dock was from the last Wizard his first task for his new apprentice. No-one would be able to breach the gate nor land at the dock without some rather disgusting consequences--not that anyone was foolish enough to attempt such a thing anymore.

At the bow of _Seshat_, Captain Kensei Muguruma watched the gate come into focus through the sun bright ebony cloths flapped in the wind, the loose open shirt baring his chest to the cool breeze that slipped along each scar and dot of ink he had. His pants were loose and knee length, his feet encased in boots underneath the fabric. Belted to his waist was a sword he had recently won in a fight to the death but his faithful dagger was stuck into his boot. Above his head starch creme sails, full with wind drew them closer to home with each passing heartbeat. High above them his flag flew in the breeze, scarlet to signal his lack of prisoners on board. He could see an assortment of brightly dressed men playing along the top and shook his head, wondering if the Pirate King was ever going to see the sense in seriousness. Though they enjoyed the riches Kishobu had to offer, his crew knew when playtime was and when work time was.

"Are we there yet?!"

Most of them anyway.

"No," he barked turning his head.

Mashiro Kuna, his First Mate and the lone woman aboard gave a dramatic sigh from her vantage point in the rigging before jumping the short distance to the deck. Dressed in a loose pair of knee length pants he was pretty sure had once been his, belted with a bright orange scarf she was nude from the waist up except for the white garment that covered her breasts. Her low shoes were on her feet leaving her calves bare while a pair of goggles was stuck in her hair. Clutched in her hand was a piece of white fabric he was pretty sure was her shirt. She skipped over to where he was and leaned forward, peering through the approaching darkness. Like him her hair was short for the damage their lives did and because getting blinded by an errant lock of hair was not the way any self respecting pirate would want to die--or anyone really. As they approached the gates Kensei dropped his hand to the blade at his waist, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at the men for any signs of a takeover.

"Hi!" Mashiro cried with a grin, waving her arms as her hand smacked Kensei.

"Evening!" one shouted down, "how you doing Ms. Kuna?"

"I'm good! How are you?!" she cupped her eyes, "I can't see them," she pouted, "He--"

"Stop shouting!" Kensei barked clapping a hand over her mouth, "tell the King we're here!" he ordered two of the men.

"Right away, Captain Muguruma," they said taking off.

Kensei watched them go with the sharp gaze that had not dimmed despite it being years since he had watched men on a battlefield. The odd thing about living in Kishobu was that it was a land of outcasts. There were a handful of Kishobu who were natives but none of them was old enough to do much more than be annoying, snot nosed kids. Mashiro and he went way back, back before they knew of Kishobu, back when they would have been on the other side of the cove and the war. But that had changed. Now they were pirates and outlaws and Kishobu would be the place they defended.

But they were still a 'they'.

Even if the world ended, even if everything changed, Mashiro Kuna at his side was by far the most dependable thing Kensei Muguruma had ever experienced and the one thing he was truly grateful for. He lowered his hand from her mouth as the gates began to pull apart, allowing them entrance into Kishobu. Mashiro grinned up at him before she focused her gaze on the gates in front of them. Slowly _Seshat_ turned her bow towards the cove, towards Kishobu, towards home. Mashiro thrust her arms through the sleeves of her loose white shirt and pulled her head through the too wide neck. Kensei rolled his eyes, instantly recognizing the fact that everything she was wearing was either his or he had given to her. Mashiro clapped her hands together with childish delight.

"Oh Kensei you gotta do laundry," she said turning to him, "I can't keep stealing your cloths if they're dirty."

"Then why don't you wear your own cloths?" he barked looking down at her.

"Because yours are better," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "besides, you smell good."

"Go get the boat ready to dock!" he barked to her, "the bastard King's probably still asleep this hour," he snorted, "we get in fast and I'll let you wake him up."

"Okay!"

She grinned and skipped off to obey. Kensei picked up a corner of his shirt and sniffed.

He didn't smell that bad, actually.

* * *

**Yes! Cookies to everyone who guessed that the Kishobu were Vizards--and a few other unlikely people. But they're mainly Vizards!**

**_Seshat_ is the first known scribe-God, she's an Egyptian Goddess and since Kensei's Division in Bleach is all about writing, I figured that was fitting. **

**Any guesses as to who the people who serve the Harusaki are?**

**You'll find out soon!**

**Please R & R! I love hearing from you all! I swear I'm going to get to review replies, school has just been a killer for the past couple of weeks. But review anyway! **

**Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

"Pardon me, Ambassador, but the Prince is heading for the stables."

Rukia dropped the inkwell, barely managing to catch the glass object before it shattered. Setting it down she turned around to look at the man. He remained bowed to her. Rukia brushed her hands down the silvery fabric that shone through the parted folds of her shimmery blue dress. Encircling her waist was a wide pale gold sash, fastened in a wide, elaborate bow that spanned most of her spine. She gave a nod. The man walked down the hallway. She matched his pace evenly as they strode towards the stables where the Prince was undoubtably getting ready to do something excessively foolish.

The man opened the doors to the stables. They were clean and polished, excellent for Rukia considering she was wearing shoes designed for dancing halls instead of stirrups. It was hardly noticeable that living beasts existed in the highly arched pale room. Down the hall she could see Ichigo's broad shoulders as he strode towards his horse. He was dressed for riding without being seen as a Prince, in fact he was dressed in the uniform of someone from Las Noches. Rukia felt her eyes narrow in disgust at the sight before she quickly pushed the thoughts aside. she had to deal with this before he did something stupid and got them all in a lot of trouble.

"Your Highness, _what_ are you doing?!" Rukia demanded, her sharp demand echoing off the rafters of the stables.

Ichigo turned his head to look at her before he continued on his way. Rukia's eyes widened. He might have outranked her but to show such blatant disrespect--oh she could not _wait_ to get back to Soul Society where things at least made sense. Byakuya would have challenged him to a duel that would have ended in his would do no such thing and she was certainly not equal enough in stature to duel him on equal ground. Resisting the urge to hike up her skirts and hit him properly Rukia settled for quickening her pace until she drew level with him, no easy feat considering their height difference.

"I asked you a question," she all but spat at him.

"And I declined to answer," he said walking into the stall that held his horse.

Rukia shrugged and closed the door, locking it behind her. The funny thing about Las Noches was their emphasis on ceremony and beauty, something that was at least familiar to her. The gates of the stalls were lattice and high, easily eclipsing Ichigo. A strong kick from a horse could break the lock but the angle would have had to be perfect and the stalls were far too small for even a beast as well bred as his to kick its way out of there. Ichigo turned around quickly, his eyes widening as he realized what she had done. His hands immediately locked around the lattice of the gate. His amber eyes sparked but Rukia had seen far more frightening things in the Court at Soul Society. He might have outranked her but she was the representative of Soul Society who was just as much a player as they were.

There was far too much at stake to indulge the whims of an over emotional Prince.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he demanded.

"I asked the same of you," she replied cooly.

"The Princess is in trouble," he said, "I have to find her."

"You will do no such thing. The King has already taken care of it--"

"The King is why this happened!"

"Wrong, Your Highness. It was your soldiers who lost the Princess. The King of Soul Society will bring him back."

"I thought your King didn't want to reveal your hand in this," he smirked, "wouldn't want your King to get his hands dirty."

"He will not," she said, "the King will sent people to finish the job," she continued, "people who will get it done," she added. His eyes narrowed at the insult.

"My warriors--"

"Have been proven inefficient," she said sweeping her violet eyes up and down his form, "clearly you are not ready to lead even your own kingdom," she turned around to go.

"I follow my heart!" Ichigo said hotly, "how is that wrong?"

"Because, Your Highness, a heart is something far too easily broken to be obeyed," she walked to the guard, "there is a question of power here. Until I hear from the King of Soul Society and we settle this dispute you are not to obey the orders of the Prince to be allowed out of the stall."

"What?! You can't put me on time out like I'm some kid!"

"Can I not?" she asked, turning her head, her eyes blazing with cold fury, "you have hardly shown me any reason to treat you as anything else."

"I'm a Prince! You can't throw me in a horse stall!" he grabbed the bars, "you midget bitch!"

"From this side of the bars, it would appear that is not the case," she said cooly crossing her arms, "you foolish foolish _boy_. You are a Prince but hardly worthy of the title. You have proven yourself unable to lead your own people much less all the citizens of our three nations," she looked at him, "and to think the King thought you would be the greatest King. You're a child and a child is _not_ fit to run an Empire," she looked at the guard, "he stays in that stall."

She turned and walked down the hallway.

She had an urgent letter to write to the King.

* * *

Many women had shared the bed of Shinji Hirako, the infamous Pirate King.

Unfortunately none of them _stayed_ there.

That reason was a physical one. Between the snoring and grinding of his teeth, Shinji made an unpleasant bedfellow. Not to mention the room was a mess as well. Bright nick knacks fought of space with priceless jewels and weapons that he enjoyed far too much to part with. Jewel bright cloths, embroidered in a multitude of violent technicolor scattered the floor as well. The maids that changed the soaked bedsheets moved around the clutter with practiced ease as Kensei wondered if letting Mashiro wake him up with a bucket of icy water was really the best idea. Well he needed a wake up anyway. Besides he had a feeling he had saved him from a far more gruesome wake up call from Hiyori.

Finally he emerged from his washroom dressed in a pair of knee length pants, his hair damp against his shoulders. In one hand he held a towel. Anyone else probably would be livid but like most things he thought didn't really matter, Shinji found amusement in the situation. He dropped the towel to the ground and set about finding a shirt in the mess of cloths around the room.

"So no troubles this time?" he asked. Kensei snorted, "you know if you relaxed a bit you'd enjoy this," Shinji pointed out finding a shirt he liked and did not smell like crap, pulling it over his head.

"I like this fine," Kensei said.

"Liar," Shinji smirked.

"I like this better than Soul Society," Kensei said darkly leaning forward to lean his forearms on his knees.

That Shinji believed. He found a bright sash and tied it around his waist. Unlike Kensei, Shinji loved the bright cloths most of Kishobu favored. His pants were navy while his shirt was white and the fabric that encircled his waist was a bright orange. Shinji pulled on sandals instead of boots before he walked over to the shelf that was acting as a temporary coat rack. He sorted through them until he found one he liked. Kensei shuddered at the colors. Long stripes of blue and white were painted along the coat that was hemmed in lace. Lace! Kensei did not know where Shinji found the thing and he had absolutely no desire to know. Shinji straitened the edges of his coat and grinned.

"You're seriously going out like that?"

"Yep," he said, "just wait til you see what Lisa's made the latest fashion."

"I don't think I want to know," Kensei said as Shinji locked his door and the two walked down the hallway, though he knew it was probably unavoidable.

During the day Kishobu was fractionally more quiet than in the evenings. Fractionally because it was still a place of commerce, the only difference was that commerce was a bit more legal. Fruit from exotic countries, gems from far off lands--things that one could not find in any of the Kingdoms could be found in the markets of Kishobu. Shinji let people in to trade because not everyone enjoyed ships or piracy. Besides, it was not as if the people of Kishobu would steal from themselves. Though the thieves were far more nocturnal, preferring to give the few idiots who wanted a walk on the wild side a night to remember, sometimes some rich merchant came to do 'business'. Then Shinji would hardly begrudge the thieves the opportunity to show the man what honest stealing actually looked like. Usually they needed a bit of a lesson in what it was really like to be stolen from when they robbed common people blind by charging them an insane amount of money. They deserved it.

Shinji lived above a tavern called Devils and Diamonds, one of the so-called landmarks of Kishobu. The proprietors of the establishment were a pair of old war buddies from their days as honorable warriors. Devils referred to the female of the duo, the lovely Lisa Yadomaru who loved women, men and all the pleasures Kishobu had to offer. Diamonds referred to Rose Otoribashi, the other one in charge of the place who, like Lisa, enjoyed taking partaking in all the pleasures Kishobu had to offer--and was more than willing tohelp anyone else make their trip enjoyable. The most frequent resident, next to Shinji, was their mutual friend Love Aikawa who, like Kensei hadn't exactly given up the traveling stealing-and-trading lifestyle. Lisa and Rose on the other hand were more than content to sit around drinking and enjoying all the pleasures of Kishobu.

Currently Lisa was bent over the fireplace. Like most of the Kishobu residents her day garb was drastically different from her night garb. Given who Lisa was though, her garb tended to be somewhat less than covering no matter the time. At the moment she wore a pair of grey shorts that barely covered the curve of her bottom. A black thin strapped tank top clung to her torso, her long braids just brushing the top of the fabric. When they walked in she turned her head, her eyes sparking furiously even thogh the two of them had done little more than open their eyes and come downstairs. Well, that and dump a bucket of water on a bed but both of them were beyond aware of the fact that there was only one reason Lisa went into the bedrooms of the inn and that reason was not to clean.

"You get the feelin we're in trouble?" Shinji asked looking over at Kensei, "maybe you shouldn't have let Mashiro dump that water on me."

"You deserve worse than that water," Lisa snorted prodding the fire before she turned around and walked over to him, "I'm mad at you because you are an idiot. Hiyroi was right to dump you."

"Hiyori dumps me every other night," he said sitting down at one of the tables, "so what's new?"

Lisa and Rose were among the most observant people in the world. A glimpse of skin, a smile and people were telling them anything they wanted to hear. It was an old trick they all knew very well. People usually wanted to talk, usually about themselves, the key was to give them an ear. The two of them were very good at doing that. That was the thing, usually the information was not high level or classified or anything of that sort. If they needed something classified they could get that too. But one man's trash was another's treasure. Thanks to the eyes and ears of his contacts Shinji had one of, if not the, most complete information stream on the people of the three Kingdoms of Las Noches, Soul Society and Karakura. Lisa sighed and walked over.

"The Princess and the Captain are on their way to here. They should arrive by nightfall if they stay on the road they're on," she said, "apparently Grimmjow, the bastard, is on his way here too."

"Is he now," Shinji grinned, "he coming with someone?"

"Yes. The Duchess of Nijiteki," she said with a grin, "apparently they met up on the road. The man recognized them thanks to their hair."

"Huh," Shinji looked at the food that was in front of him, "the old man's sending assassins?" he frowned, "I thought you said that they didn't think Soul Society had a hand in the attack."

Lisa shrugged.

"Alright, I get it," he shoved himself up, running a hand through his hair, "you know I could _order_ you to tell me."

"I wouldn't listen," Lisa said with a flick of her braids as she turned around. Shinji sighed and slouched out as Kensei went for breakfast.

It was easy to find Hiyori. She was passed out anyway, obviously not having been woken up by a bucket of water. Technically she had a house on one of the bluffs. And in front of that house, she had a hammock that she liked to sleep in sometimes. Nothing was terribly far in Kishobu, not that he would let the blond spitfire get terribly far away from him. Sure enough when he slipped past the house--to which she refused to give him a key--he saw her still asleep in the hammock. He always found it funny how she loved to sleep weightless considering they had spent years on the thin pallets Soul Society considered beds. The hammock was suspended under a little hut for protection against the sun and light rain but her face was turned towards the brightness anyway.

The hammock rocked gently in the breeze. She wasn't dressed in the bright cloths of the night but rather in a pair of bright red worn in pants and a thin white t-shirt. Despite the boyishness of the outfit sleep gentled her features. Her pigtails had long since come undone, her gold locks almost brushing her shoulders. She had looped the ribbons around her wrist, a cherry red band against the sun tanned skin. Shinji looked down at her and felt his lips curve into a smile at how innocent she looked at the moment. Leaning against the pole he looked down at her and reached out, pushing the flat of his foot against the hammock, sending it swinging out.

Hiyori used the momentum to jump out of the hammock, sleep fleeing her eyes as quickly as the innocent look as she tackled him to the ground. The sand hit his back as she landed on her feet, one of her feet squarely on his chest. She glared down at him furiously, her amber eyes brighter than the sun.

"Mornin Hiyroi," he said with a grin.

"Shut up dickhead! I told you I never wanted to speak to you again."

"Did you now?" he grinned and pushed himself up before she slammed her heel down and sent him sprawling again, "who else'd let you abuse them like that?"

"_Let _me?" she growled, "oh don't you worry about that stupid, if you can find _that _many first loves, I can find just as many abuse able men."

Shinji looked up at her. He should have known. Though she wouldn't admit it--except hitting him harder--the fact he loved pretty much anything with two legs and a pair of breasts was a bit hard for Hiyori to swallow. Her hard exterior hid a rather soft interior, something he was, admittedly, not always conscious of. Emotions were still sometimes odd things to him. Like the residence of Kishobu, they had all come from somewhere else. In the case of him and his inner circle they had all been soldiers once upon a time, living by the strict code of honor. Their swords had been their lifelines. Now Shinji didn't even have the damn thing on him. Hiyori pushed against his chest before she turned and walked to the house. Shinji grumbled and pushed himself to his feet, walking after her. The house was bright and cheerful, something he was sure would surprise people if they knew.

"Lisa thinks Soul Society had something to do with the attack on Las Noches."

"Well _obviously_," she said with a roll of her eyes, "you'd have to be a complete idiot not think that--" she glanced at him, "oops, my mistake."

"Funny," he snapped, "Soifon's involved."

"First that idiot becomes the Wizard and now the ice bitch is involved in this?" she reached up and quickly did up her pigtails, "I say we keep the gates closed before we get dragged into this shit again."

"Still got that knife between your shoulder blades?" he asked looking down at her.

"And you don't?" she snorted grabbing a cup and jug of water, "come off it."

"Well I ain't closing the gates," he grinned, "in fact, I'm rollin out a welcome mat for the four of 'em."

"Four?"

"That blue haired idiot's with the ice bitch," he grinned, "the Princess and her Captain should be here tonigh--crap."

"What?" she asked.

"There ain't no way in hell they're getting here so easily," he ran a hand through his hair, "fuck the mat I'm gonna have to send out the welcome committee."

"Why go through all this trouble?" she demanded.

"Are you serious? This is gonna be the greatest show on earth," he grinned down at her, "I ain't lettin someone else--especially a Soul Society someone else--take my fun."

Hiyori rolled her eyes and downed her glass of water before she turned and looked at him.

"So who you gonna send?" she asked.

"No idea," he said, "you wanna come wake up some assassins with me?"

"Why not?" she asked, "I'm bored anyway."

The two turned and walked out of the house down the bluff together towards the heart of Kishobu to find some assassins to act as escorts for their errant company. Though she hardly saw the sense in getting involved in such a mess it was probably a good thing that they dealt with it before another war was started. She might have liked fighting but all out war was a very different--very unpleasant thing. She felt Shinji's hand against her hip and slapped it, glaring up at him.

"I'm still mad at you," she snapped.

"Bitch."

"Dickhead."

The two continued down the bluff, arguing all the way. Soon they reached the center of Kishobu. Bypassing the still empty Devils and Diamonds they headed for one of the lesser well known establishments. People were passed out on the tables or any hard surfaces that could be used as beds. Very few of them were actually awake at this hour. Shinji surveyed the mess as they stepped through the doors, trying to see who could sense their presence in the gloom. Only a handful reacted and of that handful, only one or two reached for their blades. Alert but jumpy, that was not what was required for this mission.

His eyes picked out a familiar slope of shoulders, not that the man's appearance was subtle even in the lingering smoke. When he moved his sleeve pulled back enough to see the inky lines that snaked up his forearms. Shnji and Hiyroi traded glances before walking over to the man. He glanced at them and then turned back to his food, obviously uncaring what they were there for. he seemed to know that if they were going to say something they'd say it to him. Scars and ink, all eyes darted to him and then quickly looked away. He was perfect for the job, intimidating and perfect.

"Good morning Abarai!" Shinji said brightly, "how'd you like to escort a beautiful Princess and her idiot guard here?"

Renji looked up at him.

"They from Soul Society?"

"Nope. Las Noches."

"Why not?" he asked standing up, "who do I need to kill?"

"No killing. Just bring them here--unharmed."

"But I can kill anyone who gets in the way?"

"Sure," Shinji said with a shrug, "kill away. In fact, have fun killing them. Do it gruesomely, make us look good and all that."

Renji stood up and shrugged. Escorting wasn't really his deal but why not? Things weren't that interesting in Kishobu at the moment anyway. He looked at Shinji who looked right back at him. It was odd how stories sometimes intertwined. If someone had told him a handful of years ago that he would be sitting in that bar taking requests, not orders, from the Pirate King he would have laughed very hard in their faces. But here he was none the less, agreeing to hunt down and enemy Princess and bring her back. Well he guessed that she technically wasn't an enemy any more. Just a Princess he had to bring back. As long as he didn't have to go to Soul Society, he didn't care.

"Sure," he said, "i'll get your Princess."

"Great. She's somewhere on the main road in Las Noches, headed this way. Intercept her before anything happens."

Renji gave a curt nod and swept out, he had a Princess to find.

* * *

**Why is Renji so, well, so broken? Oh you're gonna find out very VERY soon. The second I announced that GrimmFon was going to be here people asked me for another crack! ship that's one of my absolute favorites to write. So Renji's here and soon he'll meet up with his leading lady. **

**Until next time, R&R! **


	8. Chapter 8

With a dramatic sigh Nel walked over to the cushy chair and fell backwards, her feet dangling over one arm as her hair streamed down the other arm. She wore a long dress the color of fresh creme, the pale color pretty against her bright hair. In the chair across from her Halibel had traded her armor for a pair of loose wide pants and a shirt with billow sleeves. She sat in an identical chair, her legs bent in an indian style. Between the two of them was a table laden with food.

"Pass me a peach. You want an apple?"

"Would you like to find out what is going on or shall I?" Halibel asked picking up the fruit at the same time as Nel's hand found the apple. The two women threw the fruit to each other with practiced ease.

Suzuran was a territory divided far more by tradition now rather than any actual dislike on the part of its monarchs. Quite the contrary. The two girls had grown up sneaking of from their fathers and their long, boring peace talks. Unfortunately the people still largely hated each other so the two kept up the charade, slowly easing their people towards the idea that their neighbors were not the devil incarnate. Nel sighed and rubbed her thumb over the edge of the fruit, her lips pouting as she considered the object before she raised it to her lips and took a bite. Halibel had already sliced her apple was slowly eating, each bite as methodical as the woman herself. Perfect opposites, two sides of a coin, they were as sharply different as could be.

"Fine," Halibel spoke suddenly, "you go."

"Me?" Nel turned her head towards her, "why do _I_ have to go?" she reached up and twined a lock of hair around her finger, "I look more distinct."

"Because I killed more people in the war," Halibel said, "at the very least they will tolerate you and if we are on the brink of war, my sword will not be the blade that sends us towards chaos once more."

"Why do you have to talk like that?" Nel asked looking over at her, "why can't you just say 'you go because I hate Soul Society?' Why do you have to make yourself sound way cooler than me?"

"Because I am," Halibel said mildly taking a bite of apple, "and because I went out last time so its your turn to go and mine to be in charge of Suzuran unless we want more riots."

Nel groaned. The last time they had done something like that, something that showed preference to East or West, there had been a series of riots along the dividing line. Neutral ground meant a series of marketplaces along the dividing line. The last time preference had been shown to one, the other had rioted and then the preferential side had rioted in retaliation and the two sides just imploded into chaos. She and Halibel had been up to their eyeballs in figuring out what to do. It wasn't like they could work openly together either. They had overworked about twelve messenger birds trying to communicate with each other. it would probably be best if they did everything to prevent that.

"Fine," Nel said pouting as she took another bite of her peach, "I'll go. But you have to make sure that someone tells my household that I'm going off on an adventure or they're going to think you assassinated me."

"Perhaps you should write a sealed letter," Halibel said, "i doubt they would take my word for it."

"Good point," Nel said finishing the peach. With a sigh she put the flat of her foot against the chair arm and pushed down, flipping her legs over her head and getting to her feet. She brushed her hands down her skirt before she turned around and walked to the writing desk, "I'm going to head South."

"Why? Grimmjow and whoever the hell else is already there," she pointed out, "it would be easier if you just headed South and caught up with Grimmjow. He can get you a private audience with the King without the hassle of spilling unnecessary blood."

"That's brilliant," Nel said clapping her hands together.

"Yes, well," Halibel let her sentence trail off as if such brilliant ideas were to be expected from her. If only that wasn't true, she wouldn't have to look so smug.

Nel walked off to go change. There was no real point in tempering her appearance. One brush of the wind on her hood and she'd be revealed anyway. Ah well, there were certain disadvantages to having such a distinct appearance, but, by the same token there were advantages as well. She reached up and pulled her dress over her head going over to her trunk and pulling out her leather armor. Pulling it up her legs she shimmed into the tight suit. Practiced fingers pulled the laces that ran up her spine tight before securing the strip of leather that gave her spine protection. She pulled boots up her legs, securing them just below her knees. Reaching up she scraped her hair up and braided it back. Grabbing a pair of gloves she pulled them on before she secured her sword at her waist and her daggers in her boots. Turning she walked out of the room.

"Prepare my horse," she said walking into the main room where Halibel had made no attempt to move, "I'm off!" she called.

"Don't forget to send word."

"Yes, mother!"

She heard Halibel snort as she walked down to the stables. Her horse was saddled and ready to go. Nel grabbed her cloak from the man holding it and mounted her steed. The horse snorted and tossed his head, his mane flying out as Nel shifted but when she pressed a hand to his neck he quieted. Making a soft sound she urged him into motion and walked out of the stables. She knew which way Grimmjow had ridden. Given his injuries he would not make it far. Up ahead, barring her path, the Harusaki stood with her hood pulled up. Her hands were loosely clasped in front of her as she kept her eyes lowered. Nel stopped her horse and inclined her head in greet which the Harsukai returned, albeit to a much smaller degree.

"You ride after the Duke," she said.

"Yes," Nel replied.

"He is out of your reach," the Harusaki said raising her eyes.

They were glowing a soft gold. Instantly the horse pawed the ground, tossing his head in blatant agitation. The Harusaki turned her head to his, their eyes locking. Just as quickly as he had agitated, the horse dropped back to the ground and stood still. Nel lowered her eyes, knowing that looking into the glowing eyes of the priestess was never a good idea. The Harusaki walked forward until she was close enough for Nel to feel the heat that flowed off her. The Harusaki was in a trance, tapping into the power that Nel knew she would never truly understand. She doubted the Harusaki even understood it. The priestess raised a hand and held it out, palm up, her pale fingertips just in the range of Nel's vision.

"You have a new mission, Neliel Tu Oderschvank, Duchess of Suzuran. You will find the Princess Orihime Inoue," her fingertips began to glow. There are those who have been dispatched to aide her guard in protection of the Princess but it is _you_ who must ensure his safety. They do not understand the importance of this man."

"Captain Schiffer?" she demanded, "but he--" she wondered how to phrase just how unimportant and twisted he was, "if you hate the Duke of Jeagerjaques so much, you can't possibly care about him."

"The Duke of Jeagerjaques is not ready to care for another, to truly care," she said, "his heart is heavy and until he learns to share the burden, he is not ready to be healed." she continued, "Captain Schiffer _must_ survive this. Yin and Yang, the balance for the Princess must be maintained. He will die for her unless you can stop it."

"Huh? But--"

"Ulquiorra Schiffer _must_ be alive when the time comes or all will be lost. They ride for Kishobu but will be intercepted before they reach it, sheltered on the cliffs. Find the one with a story on his skin, he will show you the way to find them. Remember, Ulquiorra Schiffer must stay alive. Ride, now!"

If she wanted to protest the horse bolting prevented any such sounds. The horse galloped down the road. Nel turned her head to see the glowing Harusaki, watching her leave. Before the woman could fall Nel turned her head away. She looked ahead as the horse raced down the road towards wherever the Princess and her Captain. She knew Ulquiorra Schiffer from the war and it would be a lie to say she wasn't occasionally creeped out by the man--just as it wouldn't be a lie to say she was probably more than capable of dealing with anyone stupid enough to come at them. Now all she had to do was find the man with the story on his skin and figure out what the hell she was supposed to do next.

Halibel was _so_ not going to be happy with the turn of events.

**

* * *

**

They were being followed.

Ulquiorra tightened his grip on the reins of his horse, pulling his horse up and moving so he was behind her. Orihime glanced out of the corner of her eye, reading exactly was what going on. Her fingers tightened in the rains but he gave a quick shake of his head, signaling her not to run, not yet. If these people were good enough that he had only just realized they were being followed then they were good enough that they could have traps up ahead or, at the very least, a way to cut them off. For the moment they were going to have to play the fool and keep going on the road as if they were unaware. He wished he had his blade. He could feel the daggers in his boots but he wished he had something more substantial.

He heard a soft rustle of the trees, something that anyone else would have mistaken for the wind. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure move. Orihime turned her head in that direction. Her horse shifted, obviously sensing her agitation. Ulquiorra looked that way as well, just before Orihime gasped audibly. Ulquiorra followed her gaze and looked ahead.

Standing in the middle of the road, as if he had always been there was man. He wore a snug riding coat, opened to reveal the shimmering ivory silk that lined it. The cuffs were rolled up as well to reveal the shimmering fabric. His dark pants were tucked into leather boots that were obviously well made. His shirt was snug as well, more formal than the cloths they wore. It was white but blue embroidery played at the neck and, he had a feeling, the cuffs. He had short black hair that was longer in the front than the back. His midnight eyes were sharp as he looked at the two of them. He made no move to go for his weapons, nor to get to the horse that stood obediently a bit further down the road. Orihime jerked her reins to a stop as Ulquiorra spurred his horse ahead of her before stopping as well. It was reflex that made Ulquiorra tighten his grip on the reins, his eyes darting to the man's folded hands.

"Ishida?" Orihime gasped, her eyes wide.

"Hello, Your Highness," he said, his lips curving into a slight smile.

"Oh Ishida!" Orihime jumped off the horse and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him, "I'm so happy to see you!"

Ulquiorra dismounted at a much slower pace. Technically Ishida was supposed to be a dead man. Unfortunately what Orihime did not know was that Ishida was supposed to have been dead at Ulquiorra's hand. Ishida might have been a young man with a deep connection to the Harusaki but the fact of the matter was that he had loyalty to Soul Society and because of that loyalty he fought on their side in the war. One thing led to another and they met on a battlefield where arrows might be good but a broadsword was better. Ishida might have been one hell of a warrior but Ulquiorra had won their fight and left him for dead. Apparently that had not worked. He should have remembered that the Harusaki would probably take the trouble to heal their own. But what was one of those sworn to them doing _here_? He snagged Orihime's horses reins. However trained Ishida's horse was, these two were not as well trained.

"What are you doing here?" Orihime asked, "I thought you were still Soul Society."

"Hardly," he said, "its a long story, you need to come with me."

"Okay!"

"No."

Both their eyes turned to Ulquiorra. Green eyes sparking Ulquiorra moved forward, the horses coming with him. Ishida's midnight eyes hardened as he looked at the man who had almost killed him. Ulquiorra met his gaze as he walked over to where Orihime and Ishida stood. Orihime looked between them anxiously as they stared each other down, both unwilling to look away and be declared the looser of the battle--no matter how pathetic it was. Ishida's fingers flexed as Ulquiorra's only free hand hung by his side, ready to snag the daggers from his boot as soon as there was a need for them. The horses shifted their weight as they waited for what they were supposed to do.

"Stop it you two!" Orihime stepped in between the glaring men, "we're going to go with Ishida."

"Your Highness," Ulquiorra began to protest.

"We don't know anything," Orihime said, "he does. Maybe he can tell us what's going on. Besides, he's a servant of the Harusaki, he won't do anything to hurt us," Ulquiorra opened his mouth, "we can trust him," Orihime said, "besides, its better if we know something before we get to Kishobu than to just go in there blind."

"Your Princess brings up an excellent point," Ishida said walking over to his horse.

He swung himself up into the saddle. Ulquiorra put a hand on Orihime's wrist to keep her from moving to get on the horse. Ishida walked over to them, towering over them on his steed. Ulquiorra looked up at him. Ishida shook his head and reached back, his hand gripping the pommel of a sword. Ulquiorra grabbed one of the daggers instantly, his eyes never leaving Ishida's. Instead of chopping at him though, Ishida held the sword still in its sheath. He turned and offered it to Ulquiorra.

"Show of faith," he said, "hopefully you'll leave me with both my hands this time."

Orihime's eyes widened as she looked at Ulquiorra. He kept his eyes steadily on Ishida as he re-sheathed the dagger in his boot and took the sword in his hands. He handed the reins of her horse to Orihime. She was staring at him, her violet grey eyes wide and fearful. She looked at Ishida, confirming that he indeed did have two hands. Ulquiorra buckled the sword around his waist and mounted the horse. If they were riding with a man like Ishida, then there was no point in the charade, not for them moment anyway. He looked over at Orihime who was still staring ahead, the reins grasped tightly in her hands.

"Princess," he said her name sharply, "we need to keep moving."

Orihime gave a quick nod and hurried back to her horse, mounting with speed. Ishida gave a nod and urged his horse forward. Orihime did the same. Ulquiorra waited a moment before he too urged his horse into a canter, making sure he was behind the two of them should anyone attempt to attack from the rear. As they hurried he heard another person behind them. He turned his head to see a woman dressed identically. She had dark hair and eyes the color earth. Their eyes locked and she gave him a glare that was so purely furious he knew she was on the side of Ishida. Given the shade of her eyes he had a feeling that she was from Karakura. That made sense. There was probably a third person from Las Noches waiting for them wherever they were going.

He realized that they were still riding for Kishobu but they had moved away from the main road. They were heading for the cliffs that surrounded Kishobu. These people were clearly very good at their jobs and very insane. Only a Harusaki would think to hide someone so close to danger. He was thankful that they gave him a sword, he had a feeling he was going to need the thing to protect her. Up ahead Ishida suddenly sped up. They were quick to follow him. Ulquiorra was glad that Orihime was a competent horse horseback rider.

Suddenly she pulled her horse up. The palamino reared, throwing its head back but she stayed on. He and the woman swerved to avoid hitting her but he jerked his reins. The horse banked a sharp turn, barely managing to stay upright as he pulled alongside her, grabbing the reins of the horse. Orihime was staring at the cliffs, her hands by her side. Behind him he heard Ishida and the girl turn their horses around and come towards them but stop before they made it into his vision.

"Your Highness--Princess!" he said her name sharply, something that had succeeded in getting her attention many times in the past. She continued to stare at the cliffs before she swung herself off the horse. Ulquiorra's hand reached for her but she had landed on the ground. Ulquiorra jumped off his own horse, "Your Highness--"

"They're calling me," she said looking at the rocks that reached for the sky.

"Calling you?" he looked at the two who seemed to be watching with interest, but were not surprised, "what is going on?" he demanded. Instead of answering Ishida looked at Orihime.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened. She had started walking. But the way she was walking it was as if she had a string attached to her, pulling her. She stepped over debris as if they were nothing, not moving around them or taking care to avoid them. She was walking right for the rocks. Without a thought to the horses he ran after her, trying not to trip. When she arrived at the base of the stones that towered high above them, she simply began to walk up them, her feet finding the quickest route. Ulquiorra hurried after her but he was unable to find an alternate route that would let him go faster or get ahead of the errant Princess. All he could do was scramble after her as they climbed higher and higher on the rocks. Finally when she crested the top, him on her heels.

They were standing on the narrow strip of stone on the cliffs that surrounded Kishobu. They had ridden impossibly fast only to have her climb so quickly. It was early evening now, he had not expected them to get there before nightfall. On the top a narrow strip of stone was naturally in the cliffs, it ran the length of the cove and was barely big enough for two people to walk side by side on. On their left Kishobu was below them, just beginning to sparkle in the light. On their right was more land, though that dropped off into steep cliffs long before the strip of stone they were on joined with the wall that cut Kishobu off from the ocean. Before Orihime could walk forward Ulquiorra grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

"Your Highness what are you--" he stopped.

Her eyes were glowing a bright and steady gold.

She was in a trance, the kind of trance the Harusaki fell into. If she crumpled now, on this cliff then they were both done for. People could not look at the Harsuaki when they were in such a trance, not directly, not without loosing their vision forever. But did. He kept their eyes locked together as he held her shoulders, forcing her to keep her gaze with his. Her head cocked to the side like a predator studying her prey. He felt his eyes sting as the brilliance seemed to burn them. Hot tears collected in his eyes and slipped down his cheeks, leaving a trail of fire in their wake but he refused to move.

"Your Highness you must stop this!" he ordered her. She continued to stare at him, "Orihime!"

Her eyes widened at the shout of her name, violet grey appearing in the confines of the gold. Her body seemed to tighten, as if some invisible force was tugging at it, the gold glowing even brighter. He gripped her shoulders tighter, knowing that no matter what tried to take her he would fight it. He would make sure she was safe, that was his purpose. The gold glowed even brighter, the tears that had slipped from his eyes felt like they were being burned into his skin. He refused to look away. If this force was challenge him then he was going to meet that challenge. It would not take her from him.

The light went out.

For a moment the world was a mess of blue and white, his eyes stinging as he tried to figure out if he was blind. He heard her gasp loudly. Slowly the mess of lights began to sharpen, to define themselves. She was trembling like a leaf but when his vision finally cleared her eyes were the same stormy color as they had been before the gold. Both her hands were up around her mouth as she stared at him as if he was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Slowly one of her hands reached out, fingertip shaking as badly as the rest of her and touched his cheek. When she pulled her hand away her fingertips were bloody.

"Y-You're hurt," she gasped.

"Its nothing," he said, "are you aright? What happened?" she shook her head, "what do you remember last?"

"We were riding," she said.

"We have to get down from here," he said, loosening his iron grip on her shoulders. She nodded quickly, "do you think you can walk?" she nodded again.

They made their way down the cliff in silence, him constantly helping her down rocks and boulders. The moment their feet touched the solid ground he walked right over to Ishida and slammed is fist into the man's jaw, sending him to the ground. Orihime cried out and covered her mouth with her hand but her legs would not let her intervene. The woman on the horse made no move to do so either. Neither of them could have stopped him anyway. Putting a foot on Ishida's chest he drew the sword and pointed it at his throat.

"You tell me what happened or this time, you loose your head."

"I'll tell you what happened, you just interrupted an ancient Harusaki ritual you idiot, you almost killed her!" he said furiously, "its a miracle she's still alive!"

"I think the only miracle will be if he doesn't kill you tonight," the woman said with a snort, "Sado get out here and help me with the horses."

A giant of a man peeked out of the mouth of one of the caves.

"Did he stop it?"

"Yes," the woman replied, "he did."

Sado's stepped out of the hideout fully, taking in the sight of the trembling Princess, Ishida on the ground with Ulquiorra pointing a sword at his throat. He made no move to intervene in anything, as if this was something that happened everyday in his life. He just went and made sure the horses were okay. The woman walked over to Orihime, looking her up and down carefully. Orihime looked at her, her body shaking like a leaf still. Her eyes widened.

"T-Tasuki?" she whispered.

"Hey! I didn't think you'd remember me!" she said with a bright grin.

"C-ca-can we stop them?" Orihime stumbled looking over at the two of them, "they shouldn't be fighti--" she gasped suddenly, "Ulquiorra?" the word came out scared, confused, a million emotions that tore at him. His eyes widened as he turned from Ishida, his feet moving towards her.

"Princess!"

The world faded to black before she could say another thing.


	9. Chapter 9

**ENCHANTABLE'S EASY GUIDE TO LOOKING AT FANART**

**1. go to Enchantable's profile.**

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**4. go to favorites**

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**8. Welcome to Fanart! **

**I don't organize my fanart past putting it one folder so there's stuff there for a bunch of stories. The fanart for this piece is the first one there entitled "Welcome to Kishobu". Its of the Pirates as Vizards**

* * *

"Presenting his most Royal Highness, Prince Byakuya, Head of the House of Kuchiki, Duke of the Province of Roku and Second in Command of the King's Armies."

All eyes turned as Byakuya Kuchiki strode into the war council. A handful of others were already gathered for the meeting but nothing like it would be if this was a sanctioned event. Technically past one violet eyed ambassador, Soul Society had nothing to do with the attack in Las Noches. Naturally that was not the case but, then again, lies and diplomacy had always gone hand in hand. The heavy robes he wore were made of the finest damask silk, the dark ruby of the fabric startling against his pale skin while the gold embroidery that decorated the edges of his robes reminded everyone who might have forgot that though Yamamoto was the King, without the support of the Kuchiki House that would not be the case.

Byakuya swept into the room and walked over to his place at the right hand of the King. Yoruichi's place was vacant, a reminder of her failure. Well, no matter. Byakuya had seen many people fall and many people rise. It was clear in his mind that nothing was permanent, not war, not peace, not friendship and certainly not love. Loyalty was hard won and harder still to keep for however long one could possess it. Perhaps that was why he was so inclined to continue traditions. When all wa said and done the past was all someone had. There was comfort in that, comfort in the familiar and though he was used to discomfort he could not help but crave the comforts of the world, however odd they may be.

"Your sister feels that Prince Kurosaki is not fit to lead his own people, much less the three of our Kingdoms," King Yamamoto rumbled looking at Byakuya.

"I am inclined to agree," he said cooly, "the Princes had repeatedly proven himself to be less than up to the task of completing anything that does not involve a direct physical confrontation. Empires are won on the edges of blades but they are not ruled by them."

King Yamamoto nodded. He too was inclined to agree with Rukia's message, though he would prefer to be optimistic about the Prince. With time and training he could possibly become a great ruler. The King knew that the greatest rulers in history were not born rulers, they were made that way. All Prince Kurosaki needed was a bit of shaping. Of course Prince Byakuya would not see it that way but, then again, it had been many _many_ years since Prince Byakuya had been optimistic about anything really. Sometimes it was good to have a pessimist so close, sometimes it was annoying but if the King wanted to listen to himself talk he would not have called his closest advisors together.

"I say we give the boy a chance."

All eyes swung to the flamboyantly dressed man leaning back in his chair. The Duke of Yatsu was known for his adoration of beauty, women and alcohol, two of which were currently waiting in his quarters. He was dressed in a loose white shirt and black pants as fashion was preferring these days but around his shoulders was a robe of pink, embroidered heavily with flowers. His dark eyes glimmered with amusement, as if this meeting was nothing more than a formality. But, then again, Shunsui, Head of the House of Kyoraku had never really cared for meetings, only for actions.

"And you?" Yamamoto turned his head.

"Though I value and trust Ambassador Kuchiki's opinion," the white haired man spoke, "I am inclined to agree with the Duke of Yatsu."

As opposed to his flamboyant friend, the Duke of Jusan was a far more subtle character--on the outside at least. His hair was a pale white and pulled into a tail at the base of his skull. He was dressed far more simply than anyone else gathered at the table, though his Nobility was more than most of theirs. When he spoke, though his voice rarely rose, all were inclined to listen. While he too did not care of these meetings, he at least kept the dislike off his face. It was hard not to like jushiro, Head of the House of Ukitake.

"Very well," the King rumbled standing up, "your opinions are valued and have been noted," he looked at them, "our priority is containment of the situation at hand. We have fought too many times with the Kingdom of Las Noches. They must be stopped before we face another great war on our hands. Too many were lost in those battles and I will not see the fields of our homeland run red once more. We _must_ find and contain the Princess Orihime Inoue, before she finds the Wizard."

"Why?" all eyes turned to Byakuya at his question, "one Princess who has been trained to do nothing but sew and look pretty? it seems foolish that we are so obsessed with this."

"That I agree with," Shunsui spoke up, "so why don't you tell us why we're _really_ trying to find this Princess?"

The King looked at them. Byakuya looked at the King before he turned his gaze back to the assembled people. He was curious as well but in his opinion even they should have known better than to question the King. His own slip up, his admittance of such curiosity was abhorrent. Yamamoto looked at them before he turned his gaze to the men.

"That is not important," he said, "what is is that the Princess remains ineligible for the throne and unaware of her abilities. We must keep her from reaching the Wizard but if that fails, we must prevent her from getting on the throne."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

After what felt like endless hours even to Bykauya they were released from the war room. The men all departed to the rooms they were staying in for their duration of time in the capital. Byakuya walked to his own set of rooms, frustration and anger weighing heavily internally on the Prince, though his features remained cool and aloof as always. Reaching his rooms he opened them and stepped inside, his eyes raising to see that he was not alone.

Standing in his rooms, half cloaked in shadows was a man with chocolate hair and dark eyes the color of fresh blood. He was dressed in cloths that would not draw attention to his person, no visible weapons anywhere on his body--in fact, if Byakuya had to bet money he would say that the man had no weapons on him at all. It did not matter, he could kill him before Byakuya's hands were able to draw the sword through the heavy layers of silk. But that was equally irrelevant, the man would never raise a hand against him. Not out of loyalty to Byakuya but out of loyalty to Byakuya's late wife.

"This secrecy is intolerable," Byakuya stated cooly looking at him, "I want to know what is going on but my presence is required here."

"And Rukia?" his voice was cool, smooth but clearly distrusting of Byakuya.

"No harm will befall my sister--unless this council continues to exist in the foolish blindness the King has thrust us into," he said, "then I fear for us all."

The man gave the barest incline of his head but did not move.

"They were last seen near Kishobu," Byakuya said, stepping into the next room to disrobe.

The man and any evidence of his existence was gone before the servants arrived to help the Kuchiki Duke undress.

**

* * *

**

Soifon dropped her saddlebag in the center of the room, her eyes surveying their meager surroundings with the barest hint of disdain. She had stayed in much worse places--though not quite with such unfortunate company. Despite the fact that he was pale and damp with sweat Grimmjow managed to remain upright, his hands not grabbing his chest in a failed attempt at comfort. Soifon's eyes narrowed. She had heard stories of Grimmjow's abilities, he was a very good fighter, or he had been once upon a time. Now though as he walked to his own room it was clear that was not the case anymore.

Inside the safety of his own room Grimmjow let himself double over, his breath escaping in a harsh gasp that only served to send painful spasms through his lungs. He barely made it to the bed, his knees striking the ground as his hands fisted in the cotton sheets. Someone rapped on the door and though the words to tell them to leave were on his tongue, his teeth were clenched far too tightly to force them past it. The door opened anyway. Soifon's eyes widened at the sight of the obvious weakness he had done a moderately good job in hiding. Immediately she vanished from the doorway. A heartbeat later she appeared, a leather satchel in her hand. She closed the door behind her.

"You're useless to me dead," she said walking over to him, "what's wrong with you? Why haven't you been healed?"

"W-what? You people don't trade war stories?" he got out through gritted teeth.

"My people also have healers--just like yours. The Harusaki don't care where you're from, just--" she stopped looking down at him coldly.

"Just who you are," he finished.

Soifon looked down at him, well aware of just who he was. There had been many sacrifices in the war, the multitude of men under his command paled in comparison to the number lost. Though they had been defeated and though they died they died warriors deaths. They died honorable deaths--if there was truly any honor to be found in death. Soifon herself had buried many on the battlefield but she did not mourn for them. There was no sense in it and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques did not seem like an emotional man. Even so he seemed to be tortured by the men he had lost, or perhaps it was the physical agony. Her own wounds had been healed many times over but his had only been healed by human hands, hardly comparable to the magic possessed by the Harusaki.

"They refused to heal you," she said. He glared as though that was the most obvious thing in the world, "why? Your men died, it was not your fault--"

"Yes," he said coldly, straitening as much as pride would let him, "it was. I went chasing after that asshole of a Prince, I left them without a leader, without any chance of winning the fight," he snorted and shook his head, the gesture stiff with pain, "all I cared about was running that bastard through," he sat down on the bed with a groan, "I guess the ending is obvious by now."

"Your useless to me like this," Soifon said coldly, "sit there, take your shirt off and hold still."

Grimmjow forced himself to listen to her. He undid the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off, his movements anything but graceful. He sat down on the bed as she opened up the salve. If she hadn't said he was useless to her she would have refused to even considering barely such a vulnerable spot to her. Unfortunately the fact of the matter was that however useless he was to her, he was ten times more useless to his King and to himself. The healers had managed to save his life but healers in Las Noches were not at the forefront of the world.

"What are you going to--holy fuck that's cold!"

Soifon glared, well aware that the salve she was spreading on that exit wound on his back was cold, that was the _point_ of it. It was a numbing salve to help a warrior function with the wound and prevent further damage. It wouldn't heal anything but it would help to keep it from worsening. The salve was made by a healer in Soul Society. Las Noches was excellent in terms of fighting and killing but healing, healing was not something that the land specialized in. Fortunately Soul Society was more than capable of such a feat as creating a salve to help in the healing of wounds. Soifon had a handkerchief on her hand to protect her skin, keeping the numbing, healing salve to ensure that she retained sensation.

"Be quiet," she said with a snort, "your hair attracts enough attention, we need to work on you keeping your mouth shut."

"The only thing that we need to focus on is getting to Kishobu," Grimmjow snapped hotly.

Outside in the rain, Kishobu was also on the mind of another person.

"I am never going to Kishobu again!"

Nel had come to the conclusion that the universe held some sort of grudge towards her. Between her horse being taken over and her being forced to ride at breakneck pace for the past day or so, being charged to find someone who she had to work with and the fact that rain was steadily falling around her she was sure the world was probably out to effectively slap her. The thing was, Nel couldn't figure out _why_. A quick mental calculation led her to conclude that she had done nothing truly horrible in the past few days and, barring a fight with Halibel, the past few weeks. In short she had no idea why things were the way they were but she was going to have to make the best of a bad situation.

If there was such a thing.

"Decided to listen to me again, have you?" Nel demanded looking down at the horse who finally slowed, "good," she looked at her stomach, "I'm hungry," she muttered trying to turn the horse around. It did not obey her. Sighing Nel allowed him to continue forward as her eyes scanned for the nearest inn, "come on," he muttered turning him towards the nearest inn, "there's food in there, nice yummy food--" the horse turned at her command, as long as she did not go in the other direction, "good boy!" she cried overjoyed as the horse turned.

She finally arrived at the inn and jumped off, tying the horse up and hurrying inside the inn. She was glad her leather had been treated to keep it from being damaged by only thing that was horribly wet was her hair but it was in a tight coil--though it would probably be very oddly shaped once she dried off a bit more. Oh well, it was not as though there was anyone to look attractive for anyway. Besides the less attractive she looked the easier it would be to find this man with the story on his skin. Nel sighed and glanced around the tavern. All there were were a rag tag group of people divided between long picnic tables, each vying for a bit of privacy. She figured the shady figure with his hood up would, at the very least, leave her alone.

Nel sat at the table and waited as a barmaid came over. When she had given her order she glanced one more around the room. She was so happy to be eating quickly she didn't even look around the room. She kept the shady figure in the sight of the corner of her eye and the one at her back she remained aware of but she didn't look ahead which was a crucial mistake. Or, at least, she did not look ahead until she saw something odd. Out of the corner of her lowered eyes she saw the man raise his cup. When he did the sleeve of his robe pulled back, revealing ink kissed skin. cheeks still full of meat Nel stared at the designs and raised her eyes to see a man with long red hair.

_Man with a story on his skin_

"Oh crap," she muttered.

She found him.

The man with the story on his skin.

That man just happened to be Renji Abarai, a former high ranking member of Soul Society and, to the rest of the world, a man who had been killed by the Prince Byakuya Kuchiki a very long time ago.

* * *

While the rain fell outside, inside the cave it was relatively warm thanks to the shelter and the fire going. The camp was divided, one one side sat Ishida and Tatsuki while Sado tended the horses. On the other side were Ulquiorra and Orihime.

Ulquiorra stared at the unconscious woman laying on the bedroll, his riding coat over her body. Sunset hair spilled across her shoulders, one hand curled near her face as she slept, unaware of the world around her. They had retreated to the caves in one of the cliffs, the one the giant man Sado had come out of. Ulquiorra had managed to wipe the blood off his cheeks but whether the two darkened lines of skin would be permanent or not he had no idea. It was irrelevant anyhow considering what was going on. He already had many scars, those on his face would only be annoying because they would be more distinct, harder to cover up than the others on his body. But he could worry about that later.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice sharp and cold, "what ritual did I interrupt and _why_ would the Harusaki have one that would put themselves in such danger?"

"I'm from Karakura," Tatsuki spoke up, "he's from Soul Society and that one's from Las Noches," she continued as Ishida and Sado made identical sounds of disgust, as though being associated with such places was the most despicable thing in the world, "_anyway_," Tatuski continued, "we and any other guards you see associated with the Harusaki have to travel in threes--there can be no loyalty and, by the same token, they have to be loyal to everyone."

"Why is she like this?" he questioned, obviously not caring what Tatsuki was saying.

"Because she is of the Harusaki," Tatsuki said looking at her.

"No," Ishida said, 'its more than that, "she's not just a Harsuaki," he looked at the girl, "she is the personification of them, the perfect embodiment of everything they stand for," he looked at Ulquiorra, "and you are the darkness that grounds her to this world."

* * *

**Okay and we are moving along!**

**We'll be back in Kishobu soon and we get to see Ulquiorra watch someone flirt with his I-don't-love-you-but-I-do-Princess!**

**More of Renji's story is going to come along and we'll find out exactly what the conflict with Byakuya was. Also you'll learn more about the crimson eyed man who was mentioned as being loyal to his late wife. He'll be a minor character (if there is such a thing in my fics) but I adore the character none the less.**

**Oh and while a couple of crazy ship's have been worked in I'm not going to guarentee anything in terms of the Byakuya-ship a bunch of you have asked about. You might just have to make due with Arcana where, I swear, they're going to interact soon and then, uh, get it on. **

**Trust me, it'll be worth the wait.**

**Please review! It makes me write faster.**


	10. Chapter 10

**New fanart!!**

**SketchprinterDemon drew a gorgeous fanart called "These Tears...." its beyond beautiful. I posted that guide before in chapter 9. This piece is great and its full of Ulquihimeness and inspired by Orihime having the reaction of her powers and Ulquiorra saving her. go check it out!**

**Now onto the next chapter.**

* * *

**  
**

"You filthy, horrible _son of a bitch_!"

Urahara tried not to smile too widely as he opened his eyes and looked over at the cat sitting near the fire. A long chain connected to the collar around the cat's neck after Urahara had woken up to the assassin-cat trying to lug a knife over to threaten him into turning her back into a person. He had chained her near the fire figuring there was nothing he could do to make her even angrier. He pushed himself up and rolled over to look at her better. If it was possible the cat glared furiously at him, but the chain around her throat prevented her from doing anything.

"I sound like a _man_!" the cat roared.

"Well I thought you'd figure it out eventually. I didn't want you to go and tell people who you were and have them know it was you," he said, "a talking cat would be crazy. A talking cat with your voice would start a war."

"I am going to get out of this and i am going to put you in _so_ much pain!" she shouted.

"Wow," he stuck a finger in his ear, "I probably should have made you have a cat-small voice," he said, "you are quite loud."

"That is _nothing_ compared to how much I'm gonna make you scream. You made me sound like a man? Just wait. I'm going to make you scream like little girl! And I will enjoy it ten thousand more times than you are enjoying this!"

"Oh i highly doubt that," Urahara said with a smirk, "and you came here doubting my abilities," he shook his head as he stood up, "oh how wrong you were."

"Get me out of this--put some damn cloths on!" she shouted covering her eyes with her paws. Urahara shrugged and pulled pants on, "I am never assassinating a Wizard again."

"_Trying,_" she glared, "what? You didn't assassinate me. And all you've tried to do is torture me which you've proven rather bad at," he shrugged, "I could scream like a little girl though if you like."

"_So_ much pain," she growled, "so _much_ much pain."

"Not if I keep you as a cat."

"You can't keep me as a cat!" she screeched, "I'll just wait until you go to Las Noches or Kishobu and figure out a way!"

Urahara's eyes narrowed at the statement. He walked fully over to where the cat was, careful to stay out of the range of her claws. He bent down, bringing his face closer to her level. She hissed at him before her eyes widened, obviously surprised that she had done such an animalistic thing. Urahara though had ceased to care about her surprise. He picked her up by the scruff of her neck, holding her so her claws could not reach him. She hissed again, instinctively this time, as he glared at her.

"Why would I be going there?" he asked, his voice low.

"The King of Las Noches is dead," she hissed, "you're going to have to name another Ruler."

Urahara closed his eyes as if she had said something that caused him great pain. Yorucihi's eyes narrowed, not liking the idea that this was bad even by the standards of a Wizard. He lowered her to the ground and walked across the room, his steps far more purposeful than she had heard them before. He reached what seemed to be a piece of the wall that was filled with shelves. Reaching out he grasped something she could not see and gave a tug. It was as if he had ripped the very existence of the wall away. Instead of shelves of knicknacks she found herself looking at a wall of books--_old_ books that probably could have bought The Kingdom twice over. His fingers ran over them as he looked for what he needed. Seeming to find it he grabbed the thick tome and walked back over to the table, dropping it onto a bare corner barely large enough to fit the book.

Yoruichi was silent as she observed him, the lines furrowing his brow as his fingers skimmed the words. His eyes seemed to remain locked in one place, as if his fingers were absorbing the information rather than his mind.

"We're taking a trip," he said finally, "Ururu!"

**

* * *

**

He was being followed.

Renji knew. While the road was moderately empty someone had been tailing him. The only reason he had not turned around and demanded a reason was because he was confused. Obviously female, though in Las Noches that meant pretty much nothing except that his peruser could kick his ass and look good while doing it. She was dressed in lightweight leather armor, obviously designed for protection and mobility but it was worn in. This woman _obviously_ knew what she was doing and yet she was making absolutely no attempt to hide her presence from him. Finally with a muttered curse Renji pulled up his horse and turned around to face her. She stopped her horse as well.

"What do you want with me?" he demanded finally.

"What do your tattoos mean?" she questioned. He raised an eyebrow. With a sigh she pressed her heels into the sides of her mount and moved forward, "your tattoo," she repeated when she drew level with him, "what does it mean."

"I've got a lot of them," he replied, "you're gonna have to be more specific."

"Do they tell a story then?" she asked.

"You could say that."

"Good," she said, "then you know the caves surrounding Kishobu."

"Most of the people who live in Kishobu know those caves--even Hachi knows them, but he can't fit inside so don't ask him to point out which ones have the gold--" he stopped, "no, I take that back, ask him that way he can't fit inside and take a share."

"I don't want gold!" Nel cried, "I was charged with a mission by the Harusaki--"

Renji turned his horse around.

"Hey!" Nel cried spurring her own mount in pursuit, "where are you going?!"

"I'm leaving before you can tell me what the Harusaki want with me."

Nel glared and followed him easily. He was stupid if he didn't think she was more than capable of following him--she was.

"Look, I promise this won't have anything to do with Prince Kuchiki or Prince Kurosaki."

At the mention of the to his entire body seemed to tense like a bow being pulled taut. Nel winced inwardly, realizing that bringing them up was probably not her most brilliant idea. Well it was better to have everything out in the open before secrets and half truths did them in. Before he could bolt she pulled level with him and angled herself so that his horse would have to have a collision with hers to get by. Her horse was a stubborn one though, he would find doing such a thing a very difficult thing. He pulled up his horse and glared her, their eyes locking. Nel raised her chin and met his gaze squarely. Renji kicked his horse and spurred him into movement. Nel groaned and kicked her horse into action, moving him forward.

"The Harusaki want you to help me go to the caves and keep Ulquiorra safe!" she shouted. Renji groaned as his horse stopped, "he's got to be alive but he--and everyone else--is going to be too concerned with keeping Orihime alive to worry about him!"

Renji sighed and turned around.

"Why does _he_ have to be alive?"

In the caves of Kishobu Orihime Inoue was just opening her eyes. Her head was throbbing and her throat was painfully sore. Her entire body felt like she had run a mile through intense heat. She felt both hot and cold at the same time, her body trembling. The second thing she became aware of after how miserable she felt was that she was laying on the thin bedroll that seemed to have been placed on rocks or uneven ground. She opened her eyes to see the ceiling above her, the smooth rocks arching upwards. She gingerly pushed herself up and froze.

She recognized Ulquiorra, Uryuu, Tatsuki and a giant man she assumed was Sado. They were facing a man dressed in the most eccentric cloths she had ever seen. He was dressed in knee length pants, boots and a loose shirt. A long patchwork coat hung across his body as one hand rested on the sheathed sword at his hip. Standing behind him was a woman with black hair in a single braid. She wore a low cut top and a pair of low slung pants that ended high on her thighs. She wore boots as well and the sword she carried was across her back. On his other side was a grey haired man in a shirt that exposed most of his chest and the 69 on his skin. He had loose pants on as well but his weapon was a dagger that was sticking out of his boots. The three of them were facing the four of the others in some kind of standoff.

"W-what are you doing?!" she cried pushing herself up, trying to get to her feet and failing, "Ulquiorra?" she questioned.

He turned towards her and she gasped. Twin lines of darkened skin snaked down his cheeks, permanent tear marks. She stared at the skin and into the eyes of the Captain. She gasped and doubled over, her body feeling somehow pulled towards Ulquiorra as if he was a magnetic force pulling at her. He turned around, his foot moving towards her body. The grey haired man cleared his throat in a warning. The blond one moved past him and to where she was laying, her body was doubled over, gasping for air. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him kneel down next to her, his eyes focusing on her doubled over body. He reached out and touched her shoulder.

It felt like someone plunged a white-hot knife into her skin.

She screamed.

"Bad idea," Shinji muttered removing his hand from her shoulder, "alright Captain Schiffer it looks like you can come over here. Kensei, Lisa, you keep them there. Any movement, you know what to do."

Ulquiorra came over to where she was doubled over. The invisible pull that had her doubled over, that agonizing leash, it seemed to lessen more and more until she was able to move without the agony. Fighting to take a breath she looked over at him. Ulquiorra reached out to touch her shoulder. She shifted and shied away from the touch. Shinji looked at him and then to Orihime, confusion in his eyes. Sighing he looked at the two of them as she moved further away from the hand. Ulquiorra lowered his hand, more so she wouldn't fall over the other side moving away from him.

"Stop it!" Shinji said grabbing his wrist, "oh thank God, its not me," he sighed looking at the contact, "thought I'd never have sex again," he looked at Orihme, "touch him," he ordered.

"It hurt," Orihime whispered, her voice fearful.

"No pain no gain," Lisa called, "and by the way, you can have pain during sex," she called, "sometimes it makes it way more fun."

"Next time I want sex advice Lisa, I'll ask," Shinji said.

Ulquiorra tuned them out, his only concern for the Princess who was shaking like a leaf. He pulled his wrist free of Shinji's grasp. Orihime made a soft sound of protest, shying away from his touch. It was ironic since she had always complained about how he did not like human contact. But here she was, the one who was afraid of him. Ulquiorra felt something inside him twist at the idea. Of all the people he enjoyed being intimidating too, he never wanted to be such a thing to her. But her wide grey violet eyes were looking at him with such _fear_, as if the thought of his hand on her caused her physical pain.

"Its alright," he found his voice low, "it will not hurt."

"How do you know?" she questioned.

"Trust me," he said, half terrified that she had changed her mind and decided he was unworthy of such trust.

For a moment nothing happened. He moved his hand away from her and held it out, palm up towards her. They were both still for a handful of heartbeats, her eyes on his palm. Finally her hand moved out towards his extended palm, her fingertips drawing back as her hand trembled as badly as the rest of her. Finally her fingers brushed against his palm before she snatched her hand back, belatedly realizing that the touch had not hurt at all. Ulquiorra waited as her fingers came back, brushing against the calloused skin of his palm before they settled in his hand. Shinji looked between the two of them before standing up and brushing his pants off.

"Carry her," he ordered.

"Who is he?" Orihime looked over at Shinji.

"That's Shinji, the Pirate King," Ulquiorra said slipping an arm under her legs, another at her shoulders, "put your arms around my neck," he said. She nodded and wrapped her arms around him as he stood up, her weight easily borne in his arms. Her eyes kept looking at his face, "I am fine," he said.

"S-sorry," she said looking down.

He carried her over to where the rest of them were waiting with their horses.

"Lisa, you're in charge of these two," Shinji said, "Kensei and I will take the others."

Lisa gave a curt nod and pulled the two palamino's over. Ulquiorra lowered Orihime to the ground. Her hands steadied herself on the horse as he mounted and held his hand to her. She was easy to pull onto the saddle and settle in front of him where he could make sure she was safe. Lisa got easily onto her horse and moved in front of them. The two made their way towards the gates of Kishobu. Ulquiorra looked at Orihime who was fighting sleep, her eyes focused ahead of her.

"Go to sleep," he said. She looked over at him, "I will make sure you are safe."

Orihime nodded and leaned her head against his chest, her eyes fluttering closed as the strong, steady heartbeat under her ear lulled her to sleep. Ulquiorra tightened his arms around her, holding the reins a little tighter. Just ahead of him Lisa glanced back at them before looking ahead, shaking her head as if the sight of two people on a horse was somehow wrong. Ulquiorra pushed his steed forward, pulling a bit closer to her.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Captain Yadomaru," he said.

"I'm not a Captain anymore," she snapped glaring over at him, "and you should be glad of it or you'd be dead."

"I'm sure the armies of Yatsu mourn your leaving," he replied looking over at her.

"I don't think the armies mourn anything---no more than the _Duke_ does," she said, hating how even after time had passed the idea of how quickly her old lover had replaced her made her want to hit something. She knew it was unfair of her, after all men hardly spent more than a night in her bed but even so, every woman had her pride, "you seem to be living the life of a pampered man rather well," she said sweeping her eyes over his cloths.

"It has advantages," he stated cooly.

"And what advantages they are," Lisa said nodding towards the Princess, "you two seem close. Late night visits perhaps?"

"Hardly," he said, "once this is over she will be moving to the Kingdom of Karakura to wed Prince Kurosaki."

"Of course," Lisa said, sarcasm lacing the words.

They finally pulled to the massive gates that blocked Kishobu from the outside world. They were usually open save for a few hours of the day or special circumstance. Apparently this was one, the high creations were closed. Like the gates of the sea they were a gift from the last Wizard. Lisa sighed and craned her head up, shielding her eyes from the waning sun as she looked up at the place where the people were resting. She lowered her hand and cupped both around her mouth.

"Mashiro! Open the gate!"

"What's the password?!" came the call down.

"Open the _fucking_ gate!" she shouted upwards.

A moment later the gates moved seamlessly apart, allowing them access to the city inside their protection. Ulquiorra had been to Kishobu before but it had been some time. He was sure though that no matter what he saw the sight of the city would be one he would remember for many years. High rocky cliffs led downwards to brightly lit houses dotting them. The ancient gates were closed for the night but the sun painted them a bright gold, casting the same eathreal glow on the ships that lay inside the protective confines. Winding, twisted roads snaked from the long dock divining and converging to right before the hooves of their mounts. All the while the lights from the houses continued to glow brightly, they would brighten steadily as the sky finally lost its battle and slipped into dusk.

"Its about time you two showed up."

Ulquiorra turned to see a man standing there. He had skin the color of chocolate and he was dressed as eccentrically as everyone else. Loose pants and low shoes clad his bottom half while his top half was clothed in a loose, long shirt that came almost to his knees. Everything he wore was different shades of green. Black goggles covered his eyes while his hair stuck out in three distinct points. Lisa raised an eyebrow as she took in his apperance and then looked out to sea, obviously tallying the ships.

"When'd you get in?" she asked.

"Couple hours ago while you were getting us into more trouble," came the reply, "well if it isn't Captain Ulquiorra Schifer--and the Princess," he looked at Lisa, "that's more trouble than we're used too."

"You don't know the half of it Love," she said, "we gotta get 'em safe. I'm taking them to Devils."

"Keep them upstairs," he said.

Lisa nodded, despite the feeling in her gut that said there was no-where safe in all the world for the two of them.


	11. Chapter 11

Orihime looked around the small room that she had woken up in.

She didn't feel terrible, not anymore. She just felt weak. As if she had been drained of every last drop of energy she possessed. She had quickly tried the door and found it open, signaling she was not a prisoner. Carefully she walked back to the bed and sat down, looking around the small space. It looked like any other inn she had been in, it looked like a smaller version of the room she had shared with Ulquiorra. But there was only one bed now, only one person meant to be in the room. Swallowing thickly she looked down at her ruined cloths. She knew a bath was already drawn for her in the small adjoining room. Orihime looked down at her boots before bending forward and undoing the ties.

She undressed carefully, her fingers knowing what to do despite that it had been many years since she had bathed without servants. She left her cloths in a pile on the floor and walked into the other room. A small reflecting mirror stood on the table. Orihime stopped, her eyes moving over her reflection. Bruises and cuts mixed with the dirt and sweat already caked on her skin. She did not look like a Princess, she did not even look like a messenger. She looked frightened, she looked tired. But most of all she looked afraid. Of what, she did not know, perhaps afraid of everything.

Moving her eyes away from the mirror she walked towards the steaming tub and careful lowered herself into the bath. She gasped as the hot water burned her cuts, quickly clapping a hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. If she made noise, Orihime knew Ulquiorra would be there instantly. The one thing Orihime did not want in all the world was for Ulquiorra to come on her in the bath, looking as she did. Slowly her body adjusted to the hot water, enough for her to lower her hands. She reached up to the crown of her head and slowly unbraided her hair, letting it fall into the water. Taking a deep breath, Orihime dipped her head under, getting her hair soaking wet. Surfacing for air she blinked the water out of her eyes.

She washed herself as thoroughly as she could, biting her lips when something stung almost worse than she could stand. Finally the water around lost its warmth. Orihime stood, water dripping from her body as she found the pile of towels nearby. She stepped out and grabbed one, wrapping it around her body. As carefully as she could, she dried herself off and wrapped the towel around her body, moving into the main room once more. Frowning she looked around. Her cloths had vanished, boots and all. Folded neatly on the bed were new garments. Orihime felt her eyes widened as she looked at the dress.

"Oh dear," she whispered, holding the garment up by what she supposed were the arms.

**

* * *

**

Kishobu came alive after nightfall, in a way quite unlike any place Orihime had been in her entire life.

Standing in her window, Orihime took in the sight below above the street were paper lanterns from some far away place mixed with familiar glass ones, both lit by bright candles. People crowded the streets, laughing and cajoling each other as they walked by. Women dressed in bright colors, men as well, they all seemed to be painted from some far off picture. Orihime knew that this was not what they looked like, not normally anyway. There was something about this place, something that allowed them to be not what they were but rather what they wanted to be. No-one was foolish enough to fight either. Every place seemed to have a view of the massive ships docked there, ships crewed by people all violent and all loyal to Shinji Hirako.

Excitement coupled with the bath and clean cloths she wore began to overtake the last of the weariness she had felt earlier. She realized she was smiling, for no reason except the place she was. Bending down she quickly found the slippers that had been laid out for her and pulled them on her feet, running over to the door. She yanked open the wood and stepped into the hallway. It was deserted but she could hear the people below her. She looked both ways but she couldn't find Ulquiorra anywhere. Figuring he would be downstairs, she hurried over to where the stairs were and stepped down them as quickly as she could. They lead directly into the main room of the tavern and she could see the crowd the lower she got. She stopped halfway down, when she could still see the full room.

"Your Highness."

Orihime turned around quickly, her hand gasping the balcony. Shinji stood behind her, or she assumed it was Shinji. He was dressed in a loose shirt, snug black pants and black boots, all half hidden by the ruby and gold brocade coat he wore. A tricorn hat decorated his head and the upper part of his face was hidden beneath a gold mask. Still the bright grin and blond hair undoubtably belonged to the Pirate King. He walked down until he was on the same step as her, his eyes moving over her outfit. Orihime felt heat on her cheeks under his gaze as his smile widened.

"You look wonderful," he said, "but it will never do to have you blushing."

"I don't think I can help it," she said.

"I will share with you a piece of advice given to me a very long time ago. You cannot help how you feel--"

"Only how you act," Orihime finished with a laugh, "the King used to tell me that."

"One of his few wise moments," Shinji told her, "in this case, you cannot help blushing," he removed his hand from behind his back, "but you can hide it."

In his gloved hand he held a mask similar to his own. Only the one he held was a rich violet color, gold filigree decorating the contours. Orihime smiled and turned around as he moved forward. She felt his coat, his gloved hands, but she did not feel the agony she had before when he touched her. Still he was careful not to prolong their contact as he settled the mask on her face and tied the silken ribbons under her hair, hiding them. She turned to face him, her eyes dancing in the opening of the mask.

"Now, you look complete," he said offering his arm to her, "shall we?"

Orihime slid her arm through his, her eyes widening.

"I does not hurt," she breathed.

"And what a relief that is," he said leading her down the stairs into the main part of the room.

It was incredible. No-one looked at her as anything but the woman on the arm of the Pirate King. No-one bowed or whispered or treated her like a glass doll. A few especially sharp jostles sent a few jolts through her but it was hardly anything. Orihime danced with Shinji and talked with Love as Lisa kept placing odd concoctions in front of her that smelled like strange fruit. After the third they stopped stinging her tongue as they went down. Everyone seemed to be in such an excellent mood, Orihime felt her spirits soar with each passing dance, each passing drink. As Shinji danced with her through the room, Orihime glanced over at the stairs and gasped in delight, stopping dancing completely.

"Ulquiorra!" she called brightly as Shinji moved her out of the way of a pair of couples who almost toppled her, "Ulquiorra over here!"

Ulquiorra remained on the steps a moment longer, staring down at the crowd. He was not sure which part he liked less. The fact Orihime was dancing with Shinji or the fact that she was very clearly drunk. He glanced over at Lisa who winked at him before going back to the men she was surrounded by. Ulquiorra moved through the crowd to where Orihime and Shinji were. Orihime immediately moved over to where Ulquiorra was and without so much of a thought to propriety, threw her arms around his neck. Shinji laughed loudly but Ulquiorra's only thought was to putting his arms around the Princess to keep her from toppling.

"I thought you'd never come!" she declared, her breath smelling strongly of fruit tinged with liquor, "I"d have waited for you but I couldn't find you and sneaking into someone elses room just seemed, well, rather wrong and then they would have recognized me--"

"I am sure the King was taking care of you," he said glancing up only to find Shinji was nowhere to be found.

"Lets go outside," she announced suddenly grabbing his wrist and dragging him through the crowd.

Ulquiorra had no choice but to follow.

Orihime pulled him out into the street and spun around to face him fully. Ulquiorra felt his heart lurch in his chest for a reason that had nothing to do with their recent adventure. In the tavern, it had been rather easy to not see what she was wearing. But here there was no way to avoid it and if he had not been sure there was nothing more suitable and their original cloths were ruined, he would have taken her upstairs and made sure she dressed in something proper. The dress covered her completely, reaching high up her throat and falling to her wrists. Equally sheer gloves covered her hands. The dress was snug to her waist before falling in a gentle wave to the ground. The problem was the fabric. Sheer gossamer made up most of the dress. The only thing preserving her modesty was a white garment that could barely have been called a shift. Thin straps held it up but it started low on her chest and only came to the middle of her thighs.

Her sunset hair tumbled unbound down her back, the violet mask leaving her identity a mystery. But worse, it brought out the violet in her eyes, making them even more arresting. Ulquiorra could see the outfit was intended to allow her to blend with the women who came to Kishobu but it was not having that affect. Perhaps it was her innocence or perhaps it was her beauty but the men's eyes strayed past their companions, though they were often clad in far less fabric, and went strait to her. If she noticed, she did not let on. Her eyes went around the lantern lit streets, her eyes shining with delight as she looked around. Her hands remained on his, one gripping his hand and the other holding his wrist. Her eyes went back to him.

"Oh Ulquiorra isn't this all so _beautiful_?" she gasped looking around, her eyes dancing as she looked up at the lanterns once more.

"Yes," he said replied finally.

But his thoughts were not on the world around them. They were solely on her. Ulquiorra shook himself angrily. This would never do. Not after all that had happened, not in the face of what _would _happen. He had to be there, he had to be with her, to protect her. But nothing more. It had been getting harder and harder to think that way though. Through every moment they spent running, through every danger and every problem, she had proven herself to be more than capable of staying alive. He did not think he had ever been prouder of someone in his life. But that pride was dangerously mixed with something else. Something that rejoiced each time she was thrown into his embrace, each time she was pressed tightly against him. It always happened in a fight, always with something bad going on around them, but each time a part of him rejoiced at their proximity.

No matter how much he fought it, it seemed to come back every time she was close enough so he could feel her.

The double edged sword was that she did not seem to realize that suddenly their touch was more than just a necessity in protecting her. she did not realize the effect that she had on him. Truthfully he had not realized it either. Not until he rode through the gates of Kishobu with her pressed tightly to his chest. Not until he climbed the stairs and laid her on the bed and realized that he did not want to put her down. That he did not want to leave that room, to leave her side. He had forced himself to do it, to exit the room. But it had been so difficult to do, so _incredibly_ difficult that he had locked himself in his room and refused to come out until he was informed that she was downstairs in the tavern dancing with Shinji.

"Come on," she cried, "lets go see the boats!"

Orihime tugged him towards the docks where the boats were. Ulquiorra followed her as she dragged him down the dock, turning around to look around at the different ships that were there. The lights were dimmer here and there was more of a breeze. Orihime laughed as her hair blew in the breeze, the thin gossamer of her dress blowing in the breeze. She felt the fabric brush against her skin but far more wonderful was the calloused palm tight in hers that she could feel though the fabric of her gloves. Orihime stopped in front of one of the ships, looking at the words written across the hull. She glanced up into the darkness of the ship before looking at Ulquiorra and then up again.

"Hello!" she called up, "is anyone there?!"

"Hi!" Mashiro looked down at Orihime and Ulquiorra.

"May we come up?" she asked.

"Sure," Mashiro said with a shrug.

"Come on!" Orihime said pulling Ulquiorra towards the ramp.

"Your Highness--" Ulquiorra began. She turned and looked back at him, her eyes saddening. Ulquiorra felt his resolve crumble, "very well," he said finally as she pulled him up onto the deck of the ship.

Orihime released his hand and stepped fully out onto the deck, throwing her head back to look at the stars high above them. The breeze picked up her hair and dress, blowing them around but she was not cold. She felt as though she could fly. As though she could soar up to the heavens and just keep going, She heard Ulquiorra come up beside her, protective as always. Orihime kept her eyes on the stars, open to their dancing light even as she felt wetness streak the side of her face.

"I want to fly," she announced abruptly. Ulquiorra looked at her, "just to keep going, forever and ever. No palaces, no ball gowns, nothing but the endless sky," she sighed, her voice edged with longing, "just keep going forever."

"Your Highness--"

"And you of course!" she said tearing her eyes away from the sky and looking at him. Suddenly she grabbed both his hands, "we'll fly away together. We'll go to all the places on the map, just you and me."

"I believe the people would miss you," he said, keeping his hands loose and immobile in hers.

"No they would not," she said, her eyes going to the ground, "they would miss what I represent. They would miss their symbol of what I am--they wouldn't miss me," she stopped, "but you would, right?" Ulquiorra nodded, "then why were you going to stay in the palace when I was going far away?"

Ulquiorra stared at her, unsure of what to say. He had been prepared to do just that, to remain in the palace while she went far far away. He felt her begin withdraw her hands and subtly his fingers tightened on them. She looked at him curiously, her eyes still fogged with the drinks she had consumed.

"My duty is to my monarch," he said, "the King had ordered me to stay and those orders I swore to obey. But it does not change that I would have missed you when you were gone."

Her smile did not slip as she slowly withdrew one of her hands. Instead of stepping away though, her hand came up and reached out, touching his cheek. One of her fingers moved down the line of his cheek, starting just under his eye to the bottom of his jaw.

"They're faint," she said softly.

"Yes," he said as her fingertips rested on the skin of his jaw.

Her hand slipped down to rest on his shoulder, the other turning in his palm and bringing their hands up. WIth the stars in her eyes and a smile on her lips she looked at him.

"Dance with me," she whispered, as if they were sharing some big secret.

Ulquiorra rested his hand on her waist and began to do that. There was no music of course, but it seemed almost unnecessary. Both had enough deportment training to know how to dance, music or no. It was a simple dance, she was too drunk for anything else. But he led her through the movements on the deck of the star drenched ship, her own following him perfectly. If he held her a little closer than was necessary for the dance, he could blame it on her need for balance. She was more than willing to lean closer against him. Though that pull she had felt was not there anymore, she still wanted to be closer to him.

The thunder surprised them both.

"It looks--" Orihime stopped as raindrops began to fall, "its raining!" she laughed as the rain began to fall down around them.

"We should return," Ulquiorra began.

"Why?" she asked, "we're already wet!" she laughed and stepped closer, "lets keep dancing!"

"And we will dance again," he said stepping back and bowing, "but for now, we must return."

They could have sought shelter on the ship but Ulquiorra was intent that they get off the Pirate ship and back to the inn--even if it was also run by Pirates. They ran through the streets, past people who were not the least bit deterred by the rain that slicked the fabric of their cloths to the skin. Ulquiorra led her through the streets back to where the inn was. The second floor stuck out somewhat farther than the first, providing them shelter from the rain. Orihime laughed as they ran underneath it.

Suddenly Ulquiorra found himself flush against her chest as she wrapped one arm around his shoulders, gripping his hand with her other. He looked at her, feeling his eyes widen as he realized just how frightening close they were. The water from their cloths mingled together and dripped to the floor under their feet. He looked down at her eyes, dancing in the opening of the mask she wore.

"Well, you did say we would dance again," she told him.

Ulquiorra looked down at her. She smiled dazzlingly up at him.

"Dance with me," she whispered.

Ulquiorra had a choice. He could have disobeyed, he could have refused her. Ulquiorra had obeyed orders he did not want too and once he had even refused an order. But even so, standing with her with his hair slicked to his scalp and their bodies pressed close together, he realized there was nothing more in the world he wanted to do than dance with her.

So he stepped back.

"Come," he said taking her hand, "we must get upstairs."

Orihime nodded. Ulquiorra quickly led her through the tavern and up the stairs to the upper floor. He led her to her door.

"I am right down the hall," he told her. She nodded, "you will feel better in the morning."

"I don't feel bad at all," she said brightly looking up at him, "just a bit silly," she touched the edge of the mask she wore, "i thought I needed this to hide who I was," she reached behind her hair and untied the mask, pulling it off, holding the thing in her hands, "it was kind of silly, but I guess I can't really take it off after all."

"Your Highness--"

"Goodnight Ulquiorra," she said, her voice much calmer than he had heard it all night.

She turned, opened her door and stepped inside the room. Ulquiorra watched the door swing shut and closed his eyes tightly, telling himself that the burning feeling was, if not a good thing, than a necessary one.

Neither slept well that night.

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	12. Chapter 12

Renji sighed and raised the torch he carried above his head, the light illuminating the caves around them.

"Remind me why we cannot just enter Kishobu?" Renji asked holding the torch high, "like the other hundreds that will be doing so tonight?"

"Because we are supposed to be unseen," she said, "as in not seen by the guards. Besides, you can do it. I cannot," he glanced behind at her, "Suzuran is still unstable. Me going into Kishobu is the last thing the people need to see."

"Sneaking in's better?" Renji asked.

Nel glared at the back of his head as the two of them made their way through the cave. Renji hadn't wanted to come but the truth of the matter was that he didn't have a choice. it was madness to question the Harusaki, madness that usually resulted in a fate far worse than death. So they were entering Kishobu by a secret tunnel worked into the caves, one known as the Hangman's Coil. Nel felt her throat tighten just thinking about what it meant. Then again, she reasoned that pirates probably did have a rather sick sense of humor. Renji lifted the torch higher, illuminating the cave walls as he scanned the curved surfaces for something.

"As long as people do not see," she told him.

Renji tried not to laugh outright at the statement. This was the very last thing he expected to happen was for him to be sneaking into a place he had called home for a time. With a Duchess from Las Noches none the less. There had been a time when he would have called her an enemy, where he would have tried to kill her on the battlefield. But now here he was, going against everything he had once believed and helping her. Beliefs, no matter how passionate, had not gotten Renji Abarai very far in life. Quite contrary, they had done nothing but get him into trouble. The last thing Renji needed to do was believe in something--believe in anything really. His fingers tightened on the torch as he raised it higher, sweeping the light ahead.

"Did you hear something?" Nel questioned, one hand on her sword.

"No," Renji told her, "we are alone."

Nel nodded, trying not to think about how such a simple statement sent shivers up her spine. It was not as if she was going to deny he was unattractive. Quite to the contrary, the man in front of her was extremely attractive. Everything about him seemed to be a contradiction. The well muscled frame, obviously used for fighting despite the fact she could not see a weapon on him. His skin, tattooed completely and yet his hair was probably longer than hers. Contradictions were something Nel had long ago learned to appreciate.

"Did the Harusaki tell you anything about why you had to protect Ulquiorra?" he asked finally.

"No," Nel said, "only that I had to do it. She said others would be concerned with protecting Her Highness but without Captain Schiffer, all would be lost."

Renji made a sound in the back of his throat. Nel glared at him. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She heard him address Captain Schiffer as Ulquiorra and she imagined he would do the same for the Princess. Nel liked to think that at the very least she would have addressed his monarchs with respect. But he seemed to have none of that. No sense of propriety. It was difficult to do but she had to keep firmly in mind, the fact that he was not a Noble. It was hard to do, between the way he carried himself and the length of his hair, she would have expected some Noble blood in his veins but if there was, it had been bred out a fairly long time ago. He acted like one who knew how to speak to a Noble but not one who knew how to speak _like_ a Noble.

"They are Nobles,you would do well to show them respect considering there is a good chance that they will be yours one day."

"In case it escaped your notice," Renji told her, "it is a widely held belief in both countries that I am dead. I'm not loyal to either of your monarchs and even if our countries do get united, I'm not going to be loyal to either of them."

"Not going to be loyal?" Nel demanded, "but if our two nations are united then there will be no war!"

"No war?" Renji gave a bitter laugh, "this rosy tone is unbecoming," he continued, "'and your naivety is pathetic."

"Pathetic?" Nel snorted, "you would call my optimism pathetic? I will have you know that it is my optimism that has allowed peace to come to Suzuran. True, lasting peace. And it is that same hope that has allowed the people to accept such a thing."

"If your peace is so true, then why, in the name of all that is sacred, are we crawling around in these caves?!" he demanded loudly, rounding on her.

"Because no monarch should be going into such a place such as Kishobu!" she snarled drawing herself up, her gaze meeting Renji's angrily.

The two glared furiously at each other, Renji's torch illuminating them and nothing else. Even as the rest of the cave was lost to the shadows, the two of them remained locked in the light. Nel felt anger contort her features, her hand grabbing the pommel of the sword at her hip. Renji's own hand remained free of any sort of weapon but his fingers on the torch tightened in the anger that rose from the pit of his stomach. It had been a very long time since he had felt the anger that churned through him. Then again, the people loyal to the defeated King had always elicited anger. Anger tinged with loyalty.

Loyalty.

It still left a bitter taste on his tongue. The idea that, after all that had happened, he could still be loyal to the people who had betrayed him so completely. He knew he was not spelled, that there was no outside reason he felt the loyalty he did. It was purely because he had been born in Soul Society. Because he had sworn oath after oath to the Crown. Because he had spilled blood, because he had his own spilled, countless times in the name of a crown and a world that had done nothing except to use and throw him away. And yet he was loyal. On some fundamental level, loyalty had been so ingrained into him that he still was. And for that, above all things, he hated himself.

"Lets keep moving," Renji snarled turning around, holding the torch above his head once more.

Nel waited a moment, taking a deep breath. She forced her fingers to release, to relax and move from the hilt of the blade. She had dealt with far more frustrating and dire circumstances. There was absolutely no reason for the anger she felt coursing through her. None. And yet she felt it. She wanted to _destroy_ the red haired in front of her, she wanted to beat him until the only story on his skin was told by the skin missing from her sword. Shoving the feeling down, she moved forward, stepping into the glow of the torch behind him. Her eyes moved through the darkness, trying to seek out whatever threats she saw. She saw none, nothing. But that did not make her feel any better, not in the labyrinth of caves they were stuck in.

"Something is wrong," she said, "its too quiet."

"You sound _strangely _not optimistic about that," he said and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I don't like fighting," she snapped.

"You only fight when you have to," Renji muttered, "how Noble."

Nel gritted her teeth angrily. She was not going to slay Renji. She needed him. She was going to go out of the caves, then she was going to get out of the caves, into Kishobu without being seen and therefore scandalized and _then_ she was going to rip him into little pieces. There was nothing Noble or righteous about _anyone_ in the Kingdom he had once called home. Nothing. And yet everyone in it would think that it was perfectly alright to march into another Palace under the guise of peace and burn it to the ground. Pathetic. That was what he was. Because it was not enough that he had once been loyal to that Kingdom. No, he had taken it another step and gone ahead and abandoned it. Betrayal was a bitter thing, one thing that Neliel could never accept.

"Just get us out of here," she snapped.

"Gladly," Renji replied angrily, lifting the torch higher as they headed deeper into the darkness.

Nel stopped suddenly, her ears sharpening as she heard something.

Instantly her hand was on her sword, her eyes casting about in the darkness for whatever had made the noise. It took Renji a moment to realize she was behind him. Standing perfectly still, just in the edge of the light, her hand was on her sword as her eyes cast in the darkness. His own narrowed as he raised the torch, trying to see what she was aware of. Abruptly his own ears picked it up, the sound of something moving. Quick and fast, it was a sound easily missed.

Renji looked over at Nel. Slowly her gaze moved to him, but her hand remained firmly on her blade. She saw movement at his wrist. Keeping her senses scanning for the source of the noise, Nel looked down to see his wrist turn. Just a bit, and something silver slid from his sleeve so it rested on his palm. Slowly Nel moved one foot back, her other following it as she kept her hand at the ready. Nel slowly moved her other hand to where Renji could see it and peeled three of her fingers up, letting him know how many men she thought she heard. He gave a curt nod, slowly turning his body, the torch lowering in his hand.

It was all the opening they needed.

They came out of the shadows. Nel drew her sword instantly, her blade slicing through the air to strike one of the throwing knives that came dangerously close to them. A man raced out of the shadows, two short silver blades in his hands. Nel used both hands to grip her sword and swung it around in a wide arc, using the weight and length of the weapon to her advantage. The man met her sword with one of the blades, prepared for a much heavier, clumsier weapon. The moment their blades touched, Nel swung hers in the opposite direction, taking his other hand off by the time her blade completed its intended arc.

She beheaded him before he could scream.

Spinning to face the next man, Nel found no opponent. Renji was there, the torch in one hand. In his other was the same type of blade the other men were wielding. Her eyes found the second opponent, one of the knives in his chest. The one Renji as currently fighting seemed more than adept at wielding the blades. But, even with one, Renji moved with ease and deadliness. The sound of metal on metal echoed through the cave as they dueled. Her sword wasn't going to be much use in the space the two had worked themselves into. They couldn't waste more time either. Casting her eyes for another weapon, Nel ran over to the man with one of Renji's knives in his chest. Grabbing it she wretched the thing free.

"Renji!" she shouted.

He ducked as she drew her hand back and threw the knife out. It was heavy but it sailed through the air, slamming into the man's neck. His eyes widened as his knees buckled. He was dead by the time he hit the stone under their feet. Nel hurried forward, sheathing her sword. Renji grabbed the knife, pulling it free from the man's throat. His body jerked as Renji wiped the knife on his leg, sliding it into the concealed sheath on his forearm. He did the same with the other, both knives vanishing until it was as though they were not there. Nel looked behind her but the cave remained silent.

"We gotta keep moving," Renji said.

"Yes," Nel said, "more will be coming," her eyes went to his forearms, "those are large knives to conceal on your forearms."

"Lets just get to Kishobu," he said turning around.

The two of them walked through the rest of the caves in silence.

Finally they got out of the caves onto the high path. Nel shaded her eyes, looking at the city below her. It was just past dawn, the last vestiges of rose clinging to the sky. The last lights from the night before were still on, their glow being taken over by the risen sun. Nel's eyes found the ships below in the bay, docked and silent. What shocked her most was how peaceful it was. Sheltered in the high cliffs, the city was cradled by the landscape itself. Nel looked at the city, at the streets free of waste and bodies. She couldn't even see a person on them, as if everyone had a home to go to at the end of the night. A breeze wafted by, lifting her hair with it. Nel took a deep breath, inhaling the salty scent of the ocean. From Kishobu she could smell flame and food and things that were not evil but good. Welcome things. Without even realizing, she felt a smile on her lips.

"I did not expect it to be like this," she said.

"Like what?" Renji asked, intrigued.

"So peaceful," she said.

"Its just past dawn," he said.

"Even so," Nel said, shaking her head, "in Suzuran, half the people's days would already be underway. Here, its as though the entire world has just exhaled."

"Its hardly that poetic," Renji said gruffly, "people are just too drunk to do anything," he turned around, "come on," he said, tossing the torch back into the cave, "we have to tell Shinji what happened."

Nel nodded as they made their way down the steep path towards the main part of Kishobu. The path slowly leveled out as it carried them past the various houses built into the cliff. Finally the path was taken over by the houses. Clearly Renji knew where he was going. He strode forward, his movements powerful and determined. Nel's own eyes moved around. She looked at the bright paper lanterns strung from the buildings, at the inns and taverns. The soft colors extended all the way to the street. Her eyes looked past the inns, to where she could see the ships masts through the gaps in the buildings. She could still feel the breeze, smell the salt. She could hear the ocean as well, the gentle slapping of the water against the boat and the dock.

Renji turned at one of the inns, walking through the doors. Part of Nel was sad when he did, wishing that she could stay outside forever. Shoving the thought down she turned and walked into the main part of the tavern.

"Abarai. How nice to see you."

Nel turned her gaze to the blond man standing nearby. Everything about him spoke of a crazy evening before. From the mostly unbuttoned shirt he wore to the askew coat, to the mask looped around his neck. Still there was an underlying elegance, even in the way he leaned against the bar, his arms neatly crossed. From the blond hair to the faint smile twisting his lips, Nel knew instantly that this was the infamous Shinji Hirako, the Pirate King. His eyes moved from Renji to her, one eyebrow raising as he looked at her.

"Well now, who are you?" he inquired.

"Your Majesty," she bowed deeply, deep enough to expose the back of her neck to him in a show of submission, "I am Neliel Tu Oderschvank, Duchess of Suzuran."

"You are welcome here, as all are," Shinji said, his eyes moving to her blade, "though if you do choose to bring trouble," his smile widened, "well, we are rather good at getting rid of it."

"I am here to bring nothing," Nel said straitening up, "nothing save for myself. I am here to find Captain Ulquiorra Schiffer, who rides with Her Highness, Princess Orihime Inoue."

"And why do you seek them?" Shinji asked, his face giving away nothing.

"That is a matter between myself and Captain Schiffer," Nel said.

"Ah," he shrugged, "well then I'm afraid I cannot help you."

Nel searched his face but found nothing. She would not have thought of a pirate as a particularly honorable man and yet, this man was clearly trying to discern her true purpose. Still, it was none of his business. Instead Nel met his eyes and said the words that would grant her access.

"The Harusaki have charged me with a mission."

"Well that's all well and good, but in case it escaped your notice there are no Harusaki here."

Nel sucked in her breath, shocked he could dismiss such a thing so easily. Being charged by the Harusaki was no small matter. It was not that defying them would bring war or famine or anything of the sort. It was that defying the Harusaki was something one did not do. No matter your power or your strength, when the Harusaki wished for something to be done, it was. They were the keepers of the past, they had a hand in the present and by their actions, the future was decided. When it came to the Harusaki, it was as though they were the players of some great, invisible game. Moving pieces. Moving people, really. No-one knew what they were doing or why, except for them. People had witness the impossible, witnessed miracles even at their hands. Whatever game they were playing, Nel was sure they were playing to win.

And yet the Pirate King was easily casting aside the mission she had been given.

"if you will not let me speak to him on a mission from the Harusaki, I must find him as a fellow loyal subject of our King."

"Your loyalty to the dead is not much in the way of convincing me to help you find them," Shinji said.

"Your Majesty, I am a loyal servant of the Crown. For my country, for the Harusaki, I must find Captain Schiffer and Her Highness or I fear that many will die."

Shinji raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. After all, many had already died because of the King. he also was not liking the part about the Harusaki. They were nothing but trouble, the women who considered themselves to be so pure and noble. There rarely was, when people convinced themselves they were one thing. Those people had a nasty habit of being something else entirely. He didn't care how loyal this woman claimed to be, neither of the two people upstairs was in any state to be dealing with claims of loyalty or anything more to do with the Harusaki. No more than they already had to anyway. Nel looked at him, wishing that manners did not demand her deference.

Feet on the steps saved him from having to say anything.

All eyes turned as Ulquiorra walked down the stairs, his steps careful and measured. The two short knives were in his hands. Inwardly Shinji rolled his eyes at the man's alertness. It was a wonder that anyone had managed to get into the palace, let alone burn it down with him there. His emerald eyes swept across the room before they landed on Nel. As soon as he reached the bottom step he moved across the room. Nel turned to face him as he stopped in front of her before he bowed, though he did not bow as deeply, not exposing the back of his neck to her. Nel did not seem to mind as she inclined her head in acceptance of the gesture.

"Your Grace," Ulquiorra said in greeting, "what brings you to Kishobu?"

"You do," Nel said looking at him, "is there a place where we may speak?" she asked.

"Come on Renji," Shinji said, "whatever these two are about to say, I'm guessing its gonna bring more trouble than we need."

When they were gone, Ulquiorra looked at Nel.

"The Harusaki charged me with a mission," she said, "one I do not understand but am compelled to follow," she looked at him honestly, "they charged me with protecting you."

"Me?" Ulquiorra looked at her, shocked.

"Yes," Nel said, "they claim that without you, something terrible is going to happen to us all. I must keep you alive as you keep the Princess alive."

Ulquiorra furrowed his brow in confusion. The Harusaki had charged someone with protecting him. The idea was just strange. As a fighter, he had always been confident in his abilities. Every battle won, every breath still inhaled, it was a testament to his skills as a fighter. He had fought beside Nel before. He did not doubt her abilities. It was simply that as a guard, his duty was to protect. Not be protected. Especially not now when the Princess was in such a precarious position.

"My duty is to protect Her Highness," he said, "I cannot be protected as well."

"You have my apologies," she said, "but the Harusaki charged me," she looked at him, "they said all would be lost," she took a deep breath, "I fear that means Her Highness will be as well."

"Even so, I will not compromise Her Highness's safety for my own," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Nel's eyes widened as she looked at the intent in his eyes. The fierceness of it shocked her. He was not simply speaking as a loyal servant of the Crown, as the guard of its heir. No, it was more than that. He was speaking as a man. A man who had something valuable to protect, something worth more than anything he valued, more than he valued himself. It was so much more than loyalty. It was, it was caring. it was caring and concern and a hundred other thing that he should not have felt. Everything from the way he spoke to the way he held himself, it all meant the exact same thing. Ulquiorra Schiffer was not simply protecting a Princess, the woman who had saved his life a long time ago.

He was protecting the woman he _loved_.

It was on her tongue, to accuse him of the one thing a guard never should have done. But she stopped herself. The situation they were in, the world around them being as it was, perhaps it was better that he was in love with her. Maybe that meant that at the end of this, Las Noches would have a monarch. It could be the difference between the Princess's life and her death. She did not doubt Ulquiorra's abilities to protect, but being in love with his charge might mean the difference between defending her and dying for her. Instead she met his gaze, drawing herself up with the grace and strength of her station.

"Captain Schiffer," she said, her tone sharp, "I have been charged with your protection. As such, I _will_ protect you with or without your knowledge," Ulquiorra opened his mouth, "remember who it is you address," she said, a warning in her tone.

It was true. Discourse or not, Suzuran was a powerful province. And Nel was a Duchess, she outranked him. Even in the chaos, they both held to their stations. Hers simply happened to be higher than his. Instead of retorts or claims of ability, Ulquiorra bit his tongue. Instead of turning and leaving, instead he forced himself to bow in a show of deference.

"As you command, Your Grace," he said.

"Where is the Princess?" she asked.

"Upstairs," he replied, "asleep," he elaborated at her sharp look.

"Very well, we need to discuss what to do next," Nel said.

"I will wake her," Ulquiorra said turning around.

"She may sleep for this," Nel said, "you and I--"

"Are not monarchs," Ulquiorra said, "she is next in line for the throne," he turned around, "she the _only_ one in line for the throne. She must know what we are planning to do with her."

"And what would you have us do?" Nel asked, "the alliance is still holding as far as I know. Prince Ichigo is going to expect his bride to be delivered in one piece, as much as I wish it were not the case."

"It does not have to be," Ulquiorra said.

"Oh?" Nel raised an eyebrow, "then I will ask again: what would you have us do?" she repeated.

"I would have us find the Wizard," he said, "and have her named Queen and ruler in her own right."

Nel was silent for a moment, her face unreadable. Finally she looked at him and if Ulquiorra did not know better he would say he saw pride in her eyes.

"Wake her," she said, "we will need to move quickly if we have any hope of finding him before they do."

Ulquiorra nodded and turned, walking up the stairs to wake the Princess.

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	13. Chapter 13

"Your Highness."

Nel dropped into a deep bow as soon as Orihime's feet came into view and did not move from that position. Orihime looked at her, trying to swallow the pounding of her heart. It was not the first time people had bowed to her. People had been bowing to her for longer than she could really remember. But this felt different. The King was not standing nearby, there were no guards or courtiers. No, there was no one there but her. Her and the Duchess standing there bowing to her. Orihime was painfully aware of the simple white dress she was wearing, one that she had found laid at the foot of her bed. She knew she had no ornaments of her station, nothing to say that she was worthy of such a gesture.

And yet it was being offered, to her alone.

It was not that she had forgotten what had happened to the palace not so long ago. She hadn't. But the world had moved so fast that dwelling on the past seemed to be something that she could not do. But the past, all that had been taken from her, it was standing, there bowing to her. Offering _her_ loyalty. When she had done nothing but run. She had felt as if she had done nothing to deserve the loyalty being offered. For a moment she felt that on her face, that insecurity, that fear, that self hatred. But only for a moment.

In the next her eyes found Ulquiorra's. He looked back at her, his gaze calm and unwavering, the same way he had always looked at her. He too was dressed not as he should have been, no marks of his station or finery that he was supposed to be in. And yet, he was unmistakable. He still carried himself like a man who knew exactly what his purpose was. Like a man who knew who he was, what he could do. Orihime looked back at Nel and quickly smoothed her features out, doing her best to look at her like she thought a monarch should look at a subject. But when Nel's eyes rose and met hers, Orihime couldn't help the smile that came to her face.

"Your Grace," she said, "its so good to see you again."

"As it is you, Your Highness," she said, "I hope I find you well."

"You do," Orihime said, "how did you find me?"

"I was led to you by the Harusaki," Nel explained, "and brought into Kishobu by Renji Abarai."

"Renji?!" Orihime's eyes widened as she sucked in her breath.

Nel frowned at her reaction, slightly confused. Though he seemed the type to have interacted with nobility, the way he had spoken about the Princess made her think hat he simply carried the same opinion about her that everyone else in Soul Society seemed to do. But the way Orihime had just reacted, it seemed as if they had known each other. Or, at the very least, that they had interacted, enough that Orihime didn't address him with any sort of formality.

"Do you know Renji?" Nel asked.

"Not very well," Orihime said wit a smile, "but I do know him. Is he here?"

"Outside, with the Pirate King," she said.

Orihime glanced outside. She heard Ulquiorra move forward, placing himself closer to the two of them. Her eyes immediately went to him. He looked at her and then over at Nel, his message clear. Orihime quickly turned her gaze back to Nel, whose own gaze was on the window. She quickly looked back at Orihime, both women silent. Ulquiorra walked forward, standing where the two of them were. He looked at Orihime and Nel before he spoke.

"The Duchess has been charged with protection by the Harsuaki," Ulquiorra said, "she will be traveling with us until we are back in the Capital."

"Alright," Orihime said.

Nel looked at him Ulquiora met her inquisitive gaze. She realized that Ulquiorra was not going to tell Orihime what was really going on. Nel almost opened her mouth to tell her what exactly she had been charged with but she stopped. If there was one thing that she knew Ulquiorra would do, it was protect the Princess. In any way that he could. This was just another way of protecting her. In a sickening sort of way it was sweet that he did not want her to worry about him, about the fact that he was in a massive amount of danger himself. About how, if he died, so much would be lost. So, instead of telling her, Nel smiled and turned to Orihime.

"Yes, Your Highness, I will be assisting in your protection from now until this crisis is over."

Orihime nodded.

"Do you have any word from the Capital?" she asked, her eyes anxious.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the Capital has been sealed off. It seems that Soul Society and Karakura were working together. As far as I know, Prince Ichigo is living in the Palace with Ambassador Kuchiki. They are looking for you."

"And the King?"

"I do not know, Your Highness," Nel said.

Orihime bowed her head. She knew as well as Nel that the likelihood of the King having survived the attack was almost nothing. Still she had known the King to do the impossible. A small part of her prayed that he had done it once more, though the sensible part of her knew that was impossible he had survived. Quickly she raised her head, trying to smile in Nel's direction, though the Duchess was not fooled. Still she found herself returning the gesture, though the truth was Nel had never really felt less like smiling. Finally, unable to resist, she asked the question plaguing her.

"How do you know Renji?" she asked.

"I only knew Renji through the peace conferences a few years ago," she said, "but after what happened--"

"What happened?" Nel asked sharply, "i thought he simply died, killed by the Prince of Roku."

"Dying, unfortunately isn't simple," she said, "especially not when it came to Renji and the House of Roku."

Ulquiorra was half ready to object to Orihime giving a history lesson. But as Orihime walked over to one of the tables and Nel followed her, Ulquiorra realized that perhaps speaking about something other than the events that had taken over their lives was what she needed. The fire, the fall of the palace, it had been there through everything they had done. So instead of objecting, Ulquiorra held his tongue and stood nearby as Orihime began to explain Renji Abarai's strange behavior to Nel.

"It was a very long time ago," Orihime said, smoothing her skirt, "but Renji was a General in the armies of Soul Society. He live in Roku, that's where he was born anyway. And because he rose so fast, because he was so good, Prince Byakuya took an interest in him."

"Alright," Nel said leaning her hands on her chin, "but then--"

"Ambassador Kuchiki," Orihime said, "he, he fell in love with her. True and deeply in love. And they began--" color blossomed on the Princess's cheeks, "they began to see each other, without her brother's knowledge. I don't know when, but eventually Renji approached the subject of marrying his sister to the Prince."

"I bet that went badly," Nel said.

"Yes," Orihime said with a weak smile, "but you don't understand _how_ badly. At the time there was a minor rebellion going on. Renji loved Rukia enough that he was willing to try and change the world so they could be together. So, against everything he had fought for, he went and joined the very rebellion he had been sent to quiet."

Nel sat there, breathless. Renji had rebelled? She didn't know which was more unfathomable that he had rebelled or that he had once been so incredibly loyal. Orihime looked at her hands.

"What happened?" Nel questioned.

"Well, the rebellion was successful enough that they reached the castle in Roku. And that was where it all went badly. The rebels wanted one thing: success and they were willing to do anything to get it. Anything including injuring the Ambassador. The Princess would have done anything to keep his sister safe and so he fought. I think he single handedly killed most of the rebels. He and the Princess fought each other as well. But while they were fighting--" Orihime shook her head sadly, "the Ambassador came in. She screamed for Renji to stop."

"And he did," Nel said.

"Yes," Orihime said, "he did. the Prince did not."

"But--"

"Yes," Orihime said sadly, "the Prince is an excellent fighter but he did not have to be. Even as he lay there dying, Rukia ran to her brother's side. So while Renji had fallen in love with Rukia, she hadn't fallen in love with him."

Nel stared. She had met Ambassador Kuchiki once or twice but the woman had not struck her as the type to lead a person on. Maybe she had fallen in love with Renji as well, but not enough to choose him over her brother. Nel moved her gaze over to the window. Through the slightly distorted reflection she could see the city as the sun rose higher in the sky. Somewhere out there was Renji. Inwardly Nel felt bad for the way she had treated him. No wonder he spoke with such disdain towards the nobility. If that had happened to her, she didn't know what she would do. Only that she would certainly hate the people who had caused so much pain to her. Slowly Nel pushed herself up.

"Excuse me, Your Highness," she said, bowing before walking out of the room.

Orihime sat at the table, silent. Now that they were alone, Orihime wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do. The problem was that while she was drunk she had felt incredibly free, as though her inhibitions had been removed. Unfortunately her memories had not. She remembered making a complete fool of herself, with _Ulquiorra_ of all people. Things had been going so very well, considering the circumstances, but she had to go and ruin everything. All because she was a Princess who had never quite learned to hold her liquor. She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around themselves before she glanced over at Ulquiorra.

He looked as he always did. His eyes were scanning the room and the surrounding area. Though it was obvious there were only a handful of people in Kishobu who would be even capable of attacking her at the moment, if they were foolish enough to attempt such a thing, Ulquiorra would be ready for them. It was comforting, if not a little humiliating, to know that no matter what happened he would always be there, always protecting her. She just wished that maybe he wouldn't be so cool about it, that he wouldn't pretend that what had happened last night had not. Maybe then she wouldn't feel quite so foolish. Orihime took a deep breath, turning her head to see Ulquiorra.

"He's dead," Orihime said softly. Ulquiorra looked at her, "I didn't want to believe--I hoped he wasn't but--" she stopped, "but he's dead."

"I know," Ulquiorra replied.

He knew the King had been dead from the moment he had fled with the Princess. But his priority had been to get her out of there, to protect the thing that had to be protected above all others. The King was the King but Orihime Inoue was his heir. She had to be protected above all costs. He knew he had done what he had been tasked to do, by the very King that was now dead. But the King had been his monarch as well and the idea that him and his guards had failed so completely was one that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But not so much as when he saw the desperate look in the Princess's eyes. He knew, somewhere deep inside, she had known that the King was dead. But clearly this was the first time it hit her fully.

"You have my deepest condolences, Your Highness," he said, "he was a good King."

"Sometimes," she said softly, "sometimes not," she looked at her hands, "but he was the only King I ever knew," she shook her head, "I just don't know what he did to deserve it--what any of us did to warrant this. The war's over, its _been_ over. Did the King do something?"

"Your Highness, what happened is not important," he said, "what is important is what you will do."

"What I will do?" she asked and a part of him wanted to weep for the innocence he saw in her eyes.

Innocence that would be useless.

He had to protect her, of that he was certain, but he could not indulge her innocence. Not anymore. Especially not if Nel had been telling the truth when she said that so much would be lost with his death. He would have liked to chalk it up to simple vanity on his part but he knew it was not the case. It was more than that. Much _much_ more than that. The way she looked at him, he knew the Princess trusted him implicitly. She trusted him more than she trusted herself. And he could assist her in the illusion no longer. Not if they were to get out of this mess without being forced into an alliance with two countries that had attacked them.

"You will act as you see fit," he said, "and with the best interests of the people."

Outside, Nel walked across the narrow street, her eyes scanning for any sight of the elusive red head.

Fortunately he was easy to spot, even in the cloak that hid the tattoos that covered his skin. She saw him easily, his head bent as he talked to Shinji and a woman dressed in the shortest dress Nel had ever seen in her entire life. The three clearly knew each other, their body language saying it all. For a moment Nel wondered if he had slept with the ebony haired woman before she quickly decided that it was ridiculous to even think about such a thing and there was certainly no need to dwell on it. She had come to do the one thing she hated more than any other in the world: admit she was wrong.

"Ah, Your Grace, done so soon?" Shinji asked, smile not slipping.

"Yes," Nel said quickly, "can I talk to you?" she asked looking at Renji.

The red haired man nodded and moved away from the other two. He walked past the two others, leaving Nel to follow him. She did as he took her clear past the building. Nel glanced behind her at the building that had the Princess and the Captain in it before she followed him. He led her around the back of the building, through a narrow alleyway between that one and another. Not breaking a beat, he turned to the ladder let haphazardly against the wall and began to climb. Nel raised an eyebrow at his antics before she forced herself to follow him. It was a fair amount to go through, especially when all she wanted to do was try to apologize for her behavior earlier. He disappeared over the top of the roof and Nel found herself climbing a bit faster. Finally she crested the roof. Before he could offer his hand she jumped down onto the top of the building.

"This is a far way to go for a simple exchange of words," she told him.

"Well I imagined you would be leaving Kishobu soon," he told her, "I thought it only fair you see every viewpoint this place has to offer."

"Every viewpoint--" Nel trailed off.

At the lower level, standing on one of the buildings in center of the city, the view was equally incredible. Especially with the sun now properly in the sky. The buildings below her were all roughly as tall as this one. Behind her she saw the cliffs rise sharply up, as though the entire world was cradling her. Past that she could see the wood of the docks and the waters they cradled. The ships were there but past them she could see the infamous gates, gates that had been a gift from the last Wizard himself. Every time she saw the city from a different angle, in a different light, it amazed her. The beauty of a place with such a terrible reputation made her spellbound.

"Surprised?" Renji asked.

"I--yes," Nel said tearing her eyes away to look at him, "about many things."

Renji looked at her, his heart sinking. She knew. There was only one reason anyone gave him that sort of look and it was because they had learned. If there was one thing Renji hated more than anything else it was that look. It was the worst thing in the world to think that for the rest of his life, maybe even beyond that, he was going to be remembered for one deed. For a deed that he wished nothing more than he had not done. It was bad enough when people looked at him that way but when people who he had fought besides gave him that look--people like Nel, it was the worst.

"Was it the Princess or the Captain?"

"Her Highness," Nel said, "how did you escape?"

"The Harsuaki," he said, "they saw fit to save me after what happened. I made it out of Roku and the next thing I knew I woke up just outside the one place His Highness couldn't get me. Full diplomatic immunity, all I had to do was stay within the walls."

"And so you went into the city," Nel finished. Renji nodded, "I had no idea that was what happened--"

"Well that was kind of the point," Renji cut her off, his voice tight.

Nel looked at him, suddenly getting the strong sense that the loss of such a fight was not the sole reason Renji was so tight lipped about what happened. She looked around the city, realizing that the place was incredibly peaceful. The kind of place that someone would stay in forever. Her eyes went back to Renji whose own gaze was out on the horizon.

"You have been hiding here since it happened," she said. His gaze went to her, "that is why you're ashamed. Because you haven't gone anywhere near Roku since that night--"

"You don't know the first thing about me," Renji snapped.

"I know you aren't the kind of man to hide here like some coward," Nel said as he turned away, "I heard of you, before I heard of what happened. _Everyone_ heard of you. Every army I've led, every warrior I've trained alongside, we were all taught to look out for you. The tattooed red haired man," she glared at the back of his head, "you and a handful of others, those were the ones were supposed to watch out for if we ever found ourselves fighting people from your land."

"I'm hardly interested--"

"Well you had better _get_ interested," Nel cut him off, "because my homeland was just attacked by Soul Society and Karakura. We need all the help that we can get."

"And you want me to help?" he snorted, "listen, _Duchess_, I might be a coward and I might have betrayed the Prince of Roku but I sure as hell ain't going to betray my homeland."

"If you will not stand up for what is right--"

"Right is a matter of who won, Your Grace," he said turning around and heading for the ladder, "you've got a war on your hands," he told her, "win or loose what's right doesn't really matter anymore."

* * *

"You know, if you stop being so violent, we can find somewhere more comfortable for you to ride."

Yoruichi furiously glared at Urahara. They had been riding for a day before Urahara had reached the edge of his patience with his companion. Yoruichi didn't know why he didn't use magic, all she knew was that with the strips of fabric binding her paws and the smaller strips covering her mouth, she was unable to talk, scratch or do any of the things that she had to annoy him and eventually let him go. There had to be someone who would be willing to believe that a talking, male cat was actually her. Someone, preferably, who could undo the strongest magic in the three Kingdoms and get her free. Unfortunately it seemed that Urahara had a few tricks up his sleeves and from her current position in a sack tied to the horn of the saddle, she had no hope of getting free.

"Suit yourself," Urahara said, looking ahead, "it will be a few more days before we reach our destination."

The cat hissed in a very cat-like way that only made Urahara smile wider. The horse he rode gave a derogatory snort as he turned her down the path. He had left Ururu in the care of the village women, knowing the girl would be taken care of and then he had set out. If anyone were to look at him they wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary, certainly nothing to denote a Wizard. He was dressed in comfortable but sturdy cloths, all half hidden by the dark green cloak he wore over his garb. His saddlebags were full of food and supplies that he would need when he got to where he was going. The mare he rode had simply given him a withering look when he had harnessed her, but she hadn't put up the fight that she was prone to doing.

He could have made the journey instantaneously but Urahara did not want to get there too quickly. At the moment, he had nothing to go on. He certainly could not just snap his fingers and find the errant Princess. Magic did not work like that and certainly not the magic that he was going to be using. No, Urahara needed information and though he did not like the source he was going to use, it was the only one he had at the moment. So he was using the journey to think, observe and, with any luck, to convince the assassin-turned-cat that he was a man she did not want to kill. The horse continued down the path with a steady pace. Urahara did not rush her. She could gallop when she needed to but he had the sneaking suspicion that he was going to need that ability. No sense in wearing her out on the ride to their destination.

Yoruichi continued to glare. She was trained to find a way. When no-one else could she could. And yet she could see absolutely _no_ way out of her current predicament. She had struggled, she had scratched, hell she had managed to scream once or twice--thought it was decidedly far more yowl-like than it should have been. But nothing worked. No-one believed what she truly was--no-one believed _who_ she was. All they saw was some stupid green cloak-wearing man who could easily just be another traveler going down the road. And that seemed to be what people mistook him for. Everyone they passed had simply nodded to him, a gesture he had returned as they continued down the road.

Was this how people usually traveled?

Yoruichi was always either with a convoy of men or she was alone, riding through thick woods trying not to be seen at all. She did not think she had ridden a horse so slowly in many years. But Urahara didn't seem rushed. He seemed content to ride slowly, moving his eyes around the landscape that they found themselves in. The world was ending and he was happy to just look at the flowers. It was _wildly_ infuriating. Especially to someone who understood the urgency of the situation. But far worse than that was the helplessness she felt. No amount of creativity or of willpower would let her become human again. To make matters worse, all he could think about was how nice it would be if the hand resting close to her would just reach up and scratch the spot behind her left ear.

"Now, if you promise not to scream, I will take this off," he said motioning to her mouth. Yoruichi managed to nod, "alright but I will not hesitate to put it back on," he said tapping her nose.

"By the Gods," Yoruichi gasped, "that fabric smell vile. Where did you find that?"

"Parts of a potato sack," he said shifting, "now would you like to try finding somewhere more comfortable for you to ride?"

"I would like for us to try you _untying_ me," she snapped up at him.

"Ah but then you would run away and I would have to bring you back with _more_ magic," he shrugged, "that would be rather annoying."

"You are a Wizard," Yoruichi growled, "using magic is kind of what you do."

"Yes, though it might stun you to know that it is not the only thing I do," he said smiling down at her.

Yoruichi snorted, looking out at the landscape, wondering if it was possible for a man to be any stupider than him. She doubted it. The foolishness of people amazed her, especially when it came to people like the Wizard. People who should have known better. She had heard tales of the Old Man, that Heikichi could have talked an assassin off a cliff. But this guy seemed to be completely foolish, a total idiot, if he was revealing so much about himself.

"How many years ago did he find you?" she asked. Urahara looked down at her, "you were old enough to have a skill, old enough to be roaming around," she looked at him, "you are a trained Wizard, you weren't born to the craft."

Urahara smiled, letting out a breath.

"And you got all that from me telling you I had another talent," he said with a smile down at her, "you must have been trained from a very young age," he looked ahead, "born to it."

"As anyone to a Noble House would be," she told him haughtily.

"As an _man_ born to a Noble House would be," he looked down at her, "I'm getting the feeling that you weren't entirely planned to be a girl," he smiled, "I'm going to guess that your father was rather angry with his Fortune Tellers. Perhaps he should have called a Wizard."

"Perhaps he knew that Wizards are nothing but arrogant fools!" she threw back at him, "someone---!!!!"

The next instant she found herself unable to talk. Furiously she glared at the finger that had tapped her nose, bandages winding around it to the point where speech was impossible. She tried to shake her head but nothing happened, the spell holding her silence perfectly. She turned her head back up to Urahara.

"I told you I would do it," he said reaching down and scratching her head, "we'll try again soon."

Yoruichi would have cursed him out if she had been able too.

And if he had not found the spot behind her ear.

She must have dozed off because the next moment they were riding into a village and it was dark out. Yoruichi looked around, trying to get her bearings but she could not for the life of her figure out where they were. The landscape was alien to her, something she never liked. She looked around as they moved forward into the better lit parts of the sleepy town. She looked up at the Wizard as they moved forward. He had said days. But it had not been days, not unless he had put her under another spell.

"We are simply making a detour," he said, "we will arrive at our destination soon enough."

He stopped at one of the larger, more brightly lit buildings. Easily he jumped off his horse, leading her into the barn with the ease of one who had stayed in such a place before. A place where placing a horse in a barn before payment had been discussed was not strange. He looked at Yoruichi.

"Now, if you promise to behave, I will take you with me. If not, you can stay out here. Its up to you," he touched her nose.

"I will behave," she said through gritted teeth.

"Excellent choice," he said picking her up, "now, I suggest you do not go around telling people who you are. I'm afraid the people of Soul Society are not the most well liked."

"Where are we?" she questioned as he moved back to the main part of the tavern.

"That, my dear Yoruichi, would spoil the surprise," he said pushing open the doors of the brightly lit tavern.

It was predictable that he would head towards the far table, the one where the only occupant was a man with silver hair looking at the bound book in front of him. He was clearly Noble enough to know how to read and to be dressed as finely as he was, though his cloths gave no clear indication as to _who_ he was. Though he did not look as they approached, Yoruichi got the distinct impression that he was more than aware of their presence. Urahara sat down easily across from him, placing Yorucihi on the table. The man gave her no more than a passing glance before focusing his eyes on Urahara.

"What do you want?" he asked icily, as if the idea that someone would ride as far as they did to see him was an insult.

"Its wonderful to see you too!" Urahara said with a grin, "I think we need to have a little talk, don't you?"

The man looked at him for a moment before closing the book and folding his hands on its surface. It was clear that he was going to talk but he did not for a moment, seemingly content to glare at Urahara. The Wizard rested his hands on his knees and returned the look, his smile not slipping for an instant. She would never admit it but a part of Yoruichi felt a sort of triumph when the silver haired man looked down first, his eyes settling on her instead. Yoruichi drew herself up with as much dignity as her cat form would allow and returned the look he gave her. The man turned his head back to Urahara and gave a curt nod, telling them both that he would discuss what they wished to know.

"Who is the cat?" he asked, "she looks haughty."

"Like you would not believe," Urahara said, "but she can be amusing," Yoruichi glared at him, "she is no-one you need to shield your words from."

"Very well," he said, "what do you need to know?"

"What do you know about the attack on the Capital?"

* * *

**Oh Renji and Nel, those two are in for a time. And Urahara and Yoruichi, I like what's in store for them as well. **

**Please review!**


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